'Si        ,     ,      .      ; 


'^■■:/ 


^  v: 


GIFT  OF 

SEELEY  W.  ML'DI) 

and 

GEORGE  I.  COCHRAN     MEYER  ELSASSER 

DR.  JOHN  R.  HAYNKS    WILLIAM  L.  HONNOLD 

JAMES  R.  MARTIN  MRS.  JOSEPH  E.  SARTORI 

to  th$ 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

SOUTHERN  BRANCH 


JOHN  FISKE 


This  book  is 

DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 

-<^Y    \  6  192T 

MAR  2  1  1938 

iVlAY  3  ^  1927 

^''^^  1  9   1939 

^^^   ' «    1929 
'      1930 

'»¥J3As 

.1    ^330 

,OCT  ^      »s*34l 

i<OV  1 4  \334 

JAN      3  1935 

I.JAW  17  ^935 

-  31   1935 

'"'^'m. 

Hi  fli 

■■■■1 

r'^H 

OLD    TOURAINE 


Drawing  from  a  bust  in  terra-cotta  of  a  Magistrate  in  Touraine  of  the  sixteenth  centiir>-,  probably  by 
Michel  Columl)e,  now  in  the  possession  of  M.  M^lizet,  La  P^raudiere,  Tours. 

RcJ>ro.1uced  by  permission  qf  M.  P^ricat,  Tours. 


OLD    TOURAINE 

THE   LIFE   AND   HISTORY   OF 
THE   FAMOUS   CHATEAUX   OF  FRANCE 


THEODORE   ANDREA    COOK,  B.A. 

SOMETIME    SCHOLAR    OF    WADHA.M    COLLEGE,    OXFORD 


IN   TWO   VOLUMES 
VOL.   I 

Second  Edition.  Revised 


CHARLES   SCRIBXER'S   SONS 
743  and  743  llROADWA  Y 


85;!0'<2 


T)CG  M 

v  I 


T.QI  nATPI  AIAAKTPA 


PREFACE 


"  Pour  I'instruction  de  I'Univers  Sedentaire." 
^  Xavier  de  Maistre. 

The  chapters  which  follow  have  been   arranged  on 

the  only  plan  by  which  it  seemed  logically  possible 

_     to  sketch  the  great  amount  of  history  with  which 

ji     they  have   to  deal  :   it   may  be  as  well   to   point   out 

the  way  in  which  they  arc  meant  to  be  of  use. 
^  Each    castle    in    the    valley   of  the    Loire    has    a 

•H  history  of  its  own,  sometimes  going  as  far  back  as 
Roman  times,  sometimes  reaching  forward  to  the 
present  day  ;  but  in  each  castle  there  is  also  some 
particular  event,  some  especial  visitor,  whose  import- 
ance overshadows  every  memory  connected  with  llie 
place  ;  it  therefore  became  possible  to  arrange  these 
"  moments "  chronologically,  and  thus  gradualh-  to 
unwind  a  more  or  less  connected  thread  of  history 
from  the  rise  of  the  Angevin  Plantagcncls  where 
Chinon  guards  the   bridge  of  the  X'ienne  to  the  last 


X  PREFACE 

days  of  the  Valois  in  the  Chateau  of  Blois.  In 
some  cases  the  story  has  been  carried  on  by  chai)ters 
on  the  more  important  personages,  such  as  the  carh'er 
Dukes  of  Orleans  or  Marguerite  de  Valois,  but  any- 
thing approaching  to  thorough  treatment  of  so  long 
a  period  in  one  book  was  impossible.  This  arrange- 
ment of  the  mass  of  details  which  had  to  be  in  some 
way  dealt  with,  seemed  to  recommend  itself  botli 
from  its  utility  to  the  traveller  in  the  valley  of  th3 
Loire,  and  from  its  clearness  in  the  presentment  "f 
a  certain  side  of  French  history  to  that  large  portic  n 
of  the  cultivated  universe  which,  like  M.  de  Maisti  3, 
is  wont  to  do  its  travelling  at  home. 

"  Could  any  spot  of  earth 
Show  to  his  eye  an  image  of  the  pangs 
Which  it  hath  witnessed,  render  back  an  echo 
Of  the  sad  steps  by  which  it  hath  been  trod."  .   .   . 

Characters  will  perhaps  gain  in  reality  for  the  reader, 
scenes  may  be  imagined  with  a  greater  vividness, 
when  described  in  their  actual  setting.  "  The  stone 
shall  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the 
timber  shall  answer  it." 

The  materials  used  have  been  first  and  foremost 
the  rich  mine  of  original  authorities  published  in  the 
Documents  Inedits,  the  collection  of  Me  moires  by 
Petitot,  and   the  smaller  transcripts   by  Zeller  from 


PREFACE  XI 

the  Memoirs  and  Letters  of  the  time,  which  are  in 
a  more  portable  form  and  of  distinct  value.  Among 
more  modern  authorities  I  have  referred  to  the 
Histories  of  jMichelet  and  of  Martin,  and  the  Analyse 
Raisonnee  of  Chateaubriand;  for  Chapter  II.  to  K. 
Xorgate's  Angevin  Kings ;  for  episodes  at  Chinon 
and  at  Blois  to  Yriarte's  Cccsar  Borgia  and  the  Stan- 
hope Essay  for  1891  ;  to  Un  Gcntilhoinuic  dcs  temps 
passes  and  Fra)icois  I.  b}-  C.  Coignct  ;  and  to  lyie 
End  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  Marguerite  of  Navarre 
by  Madame  James  Darmcsteter,  to  whose  invaUiable 
suggestions  I  have  been  very  much  indebted  through- 
out the  whole  work.  On  questions  of  architecture, 
Petit's  Arehitectural  Studies,  the  wondcrfull}'  com- 
plete works  of  Viollet  le  Due,  and  the  Renaissance  of 
Art  in  France  by  Mrs.  ^lark  I'attison,  have  been 
consulted.  A  list  in  the  Appendix  has  collected  a 
few  other  authorities  upon  various  subjects.  Much 
help  has  doubtless  been  obtained  elsewhere,  but  it  is 
not  wittingly  left  unacknowledged.  All  of  the  guide- 
books which  are  published  for  each  chateau  have 
been  freely  used,  and  in  recognising  my  obliga- 
tions to  their  various  authors  I  would  especially 
single  out  the  accurate  and  conscientious  produc- 
tions of  Mgr.  Chevalier,  whose  publications  from 
the  archives  of  (hcnonceaux  are  particularly 
VOL.  I  b 


Ml  PREFACE 

\aluablc,  aiul  lastly,  the  researches  of  M.  do  la 
Saussa)-e  in  the  histor)-  of  the  Chateau  of  IMois  aiul 
its  neighbourhood. 

I  am  assured  that  the  materials  at  present  collected 
ha\-e  never  been  published  in  one  book  before  cither 
in  h'rance  or  h^nc^iand  ;  the  need  for  them  in  a  port- 
able form  for  travellers  in  Touraine  is  certainly  a 
distinct  one,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  illustrations 
will  still  further  increase  the  interest  of  hjij^lishincn 
in  a  province,  once  an  English  possession,  whose 
history  has  so  much  in  common  with  their  own.  I 
have  especially  to  thank  I\I.  Pericat  of  the  Rue  dc  la 
Scellerie,  Tours,  for  allowing  me  to  reproduce  several 
plates  from  a  book  of  which  he  has  latch-  published 
a  few  copies,  and  which  forms  the  finest  collection 
yet  extant  of  the  best  types  of  art  in  Touraine.  The 
earlier  chapters  of  Mr.  Henry  James's  Little  Tour  in 
France,  full  of  hap[n'  suggestion  and  a  keen  artistic 
sense,  will  show  the  traveller  the  right  way  to  use  his 
eyes;  Mgr.  Chevalier's  Guide  Pittorcsquc  du  Voyageur 
en  Touraine  will  give  him  further  details  and  still 
more  extend  his  wanderings  ;  ]\Irs.  Mark  Pattison's 
Renaissance  in  France  will  point  out  for  him  all 
that  is  most  valuable  in  Tours  and  in  Touraine  of 
architecture,  painting,  and  sculpture.  These  three 
books    will    also    give    all    the    information    required 


PREFACE  xm 

concerning  the  town  of  Tours  itself,  its  possibilities 
of  pleasure,  its  facilities  for  locomotion,  its  unequalled 
surroundings. 

In  the  Appendix  I  have  inserted  a  few  points 
which  would  have  overcrowded  the  text,  but  which 
seemed  necessary  to  give  completeness  to  the  work  ; 
among  them  is  a  note  on  the  Library  of  Tours 
furnished  for  me  b\-  the  kindness  of  the  librarian,  M. 
Duboz.  The  first  division  of  the  Appendix  collects 
some  additional  points  of  interest  in  the  town  of 
Tours  itself  and  in  Touraine  ;  the  second  is  a  list 
of  the  manuscripts  and  books  in  the  various  public 
libraries  of  the  town  ;  the  third  deals  with  the 
numerous  portraits  and  pictures  (chiefly  of  the  school 
of  the  Clouets)  to  be  seen  in  Touraine  and  elsewhere 
in  France  and  England,  that  bear  upon  the  portion 
of  history  treated  ;  in  the  last  is  added  a  further 
list  of  books  and  manuscripts  which  ma}-  be  used 
where  more  facts  are  needed  than  I  have  been  able 
to  reproduce. 

I-'rom  lack  of  space  much  has  been  omitted  that 
may  afterwards  appear,  should  the  want  f(jr  it  seem 
pressing.  I  have,  however,  been  able  to  add  a 
Genealogical  Table,  which  includes  all  the  more  im- 
portant families  in  I'rance  who  had  any  connection 
with  Touraine,  and  a  .Map  which  is  reducetl  n\)ni  the 


XIV  PREFACE 

sheets  of  the  French  Government  Surve)-,  aiitl  will 
show  the  relative  position  of  the  places  mentioned, 
several  of  which  are  considerably  beyond  the  bound- 
aries of  Tourainc,  accurately  so  called.  From  this 
map  it  will  be  seen  that  three  centres  of  exploration 
should  be  made  by  the  traveller  in  the  valley.  The 
first,  Saumur,  from  which  he  can  drive  to  Fontev- 
rault  and  Chinon,  then  go  b)-  rail  to  Azay-le-Ridcau, 
and  by  rail  or  road  return  to  Tours  ;  the  second, 
Tours,  from  which  three  excursions  are  possible — 
(i)  by  road  along  the  Loire  to  Luynes,  Cinq  Mars, 
and  Langeais,  and  thence  home  by  train  ;  (2)  by 
rail  past  ?^Iontbazon  to  Loches  ;  (3)  by  rail  to 
Amboise,  thence  to  Chenonccaux,  and  home  b}-  rail  ; 
his  third  centre  will  be  Blois  ;  from  here  he  can 
drive  to  Chambord  and  return  by  the  Chateau  of 
Cheverny,  and  the  next  day  follow  the  road  along 
the  Loire  to  Chaumont,  and  drive  back  through  the 
Forest  of  Russy,  past  the  Chateau  of  Beauregard, 
and  so  to  Blois.  Throughout  the  province  the 
hotels  are  good,  the  wines  sound,  the  roads  excellent, 
and  a  great  deal  can  be  done  on  horseback  or  in  a 
light  carriage  ;  the  trains  are  slow  but  conscientious, 
and  by  the  various  lines  will  take  the  traveller  who 
is  wise  enough  to  be  leisurel}',  to  almost  any  place 
he  may  desire  to  visit. 


PREFACE  XV 

In  conclusion,  I  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
m\'  deep  sense  of  the  courtes\-  and  assistance  so 
freel\-  rendered  me  on  every  side  during-  m}-  sta)-  in 
Touraine,  and  more  especial!}'  I  would  acknowledge 
the  great  help  given  me  in  man\^  wa)\s  b\-  M.  James 
Darmesteter  ;  to  him  and  to  several  friends  in  Ox- 
ford I  owe  most  of  what  is  useful  in  this  attempt  ; 
its  shortcomings  are  my  own, 

T.  A.  C. 


19  Merton  Street, 
Oxford. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


A  Tahi.e   of   the    Descent  of  the    Royal    Houses  of 

France  from  St.  Louis  to  Louis  XIV.        .      foface        i 

CHAPTER   I 

Introductory  .......  i 

The  Geography  of  the  Castles — Their  History — Their  Fate 
— Feudalism — The  Influence  of  Women  in  France — The 
Associations  of  Literature. 

Early  History  of  Touraine  ....        id 

Charles  Martel — Csesarodunum,  the  first  Tours — St. 
Martin  of  Tours — The  Cathedral  of  St.  Martin — The 
\'isigolhs — The  Franks — Alcuin — The  Pirates — The  Re- 
building of  the  City — The  first  Counts  of  Anjou. 

CHAPTER   II 

The  Counts  of  Anjou,  the  Castle  Builders      .  i8 

Their  Origin — Fulk  the  Red — Fulk  the  Good  and  the  Leper 
— GeofTrey  Greygown — Fulk  Xerra,  the  typical  Angevin 
— The  Victory  of  Conquereux — I  lis  Fortresses  in  Touraine 
—  His  Kxpeditions — His  Tonih  at  Beaulieu — His  Son, 
Geoffrey  .Martcl,  completes  the  Conquest  of  Touraine 
and  attacks  Maine — Fulk  Kechin — .\remhurg,  Heiress  of 
.Maine — .Matilda  of  Anjou  marries  William  the  Aclheling 
— Geoffrey  I'lantagenet  marries  Matilda  the  Empress — 
Hirthof  the  future  Henry  II.  —  His  Capacities — Murder  of 
Thomas  Hecket — Prosperity  of  the  Angevin  Empire  from 
th<-  |-..rtli  t..  Ill  •  Pyrenees. 


CONTENTS 


ciiAi'i'i:i<  III 

TACIC 

Chinon.      The  Plantacicnkis.      Tiik  ICaki.y  IIistouy  ok 

THE  Casti.e        ......        29 

Journey  from  Tours — Market  Day  at  Chinon — Birthplace 
of  Rabelais — His  Statue — The  old  Fortress — Its  three 
Divisions,  the  I'lantagenet  Castle,  the  Chateau  du  Milieu, 
the  Fort  du  Coudray — Henry  II.  of  England  and  Anjou — 
Quarrels  in  his  Family — Mis  Death  at  Chinon — His  Sons, 
Richard  and  John — The  English  driven  from  France — 
The  Knights  Templars — The  Armagnacs  and  "  Cabo- 
chicns  " — The  Misery  of  France. 


CHAPTER   IV 

Joan  of  Arc  and  the  Later  History  of  Chinon  .        50 

Visit  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans — Importance  of  her  Place  in 
History — Change  of  Opinion  with  respect  to  her  in  France 
and  more  especially  in  England — Agnes  Sorel  and  the 
King — The  English  driven  out  of  France — Visit  of  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou  to  Louis  XI. — Illness  of  Louis  XI.  at 
Les  Forges — Betrothal  of  Philippe  des  Commines — His 
Value  as  Historian  and  Politician — Entry  of  Ccesar  Borgia 
— The  Plague — The  "  Receveur,"  M.  Besnard — Condeat 
Chinon — Richelieu — Ruins  of  Chinon. 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Abbey  of  Fontevrault  .... 

The  Drive  from  Chinon — Candes  and  its  Church — Mont- 
soreau — Fontevrault — Its  base  uses — Its  Origin — Robert 
d'Arbrissel — The  first  Community  of  Pilgrims — The  Lady 
Abbesses  —  The  Plantagcnct  Tombs  —  The  so  -  called 
"  Tour  d'Evrault  " — Visit  of  Francis  I.,  of  Marie  Stuart, 
of  Mademoiselle  de  Montpensier — Later  Abbesses — 
"Fireworks  and  a  big  Dinner" — Revolution — The  Drive 
to  Saumur — The  "  Truncus  " — Museum — The  Dolmen — 
The  "  Rcpublique  de  ITle  d'Or" — .System  of  Beacon 
Fixes  from  Langeais  to  Amboise. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    VI 

PAGE 

Three  Dukes  of  Orleans  .....  92 
Influence  of  the  Family  of  Orleans  in  Touraine — Influence 
of  Italy  on  France — TheViscontis — Marriage  of  Valentine 
Visconti  to  Louis  d'Orleans,  Duke  of  Touraine,  brother 
of  Charles  VI. — Madness  of  Charles  VI.  —  Unbridled 
Power  of  Louis  d'Orleans— His  Intrigues — Jficques  Le- 
grand — Murder  of  Louis  d'Orleans — His  Brilliancy  and 
Strength — Charles  d'Orleans  (the  Poet)  in  his  Vouth — 
Imprisonment  in  England  after  Agincourt — His  Poetry 
— Ransom — Return  to  France — Visit  to  Italy — Life  at 
Blois — Birth  of  his  Son — The  Youth  of  this  second  Louis 
d'Orleans — His  Intrigues  in  Brittany  and  Mistakes  in 
Italy — "Vive  Louis  XII." 


CHAPTER   VIl 

LocHES  AND  Louis  XI.  .  .  .  .116 

Position  and  Importance  of  Lochcs — The  Collegiate  Church 
— Its  Masonry  and  Architecture — Its  hollow  Pyramids — 
Agnes  Sorel  and  her  Tomb — The  Chateauof  Charles  VII. 
and  of  Louis  XII. — Oratory  of  Anne  de  Brelagne — The 
Keep  of  Fulk  Nerra — Louis  XI.  as  Dauphin  and  as  King 
— His  strangely  composite  Character — The  "  monstrous  " 
Nature  of  his  Age — The  Policy  of  Centralisation. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Till-:     Dungeons     of     Loches  ;      i  iifjr     most    Famous 

Prisoners  .  .  .  .  .       i|i 

Jean  Baluc — Commines — Ludovico  Sforza — His  Dungeon 
and  its  Inscriptions — His  previous  Career  in  Italy — His 
Face  in  tlie  Ccrlosa  of  Pavia — Charles  VII I.  and  .Sforza 
— Bayard  in  Milan — .Sforza  betrayed  to  the  I-'rench  by 
his  Swiss  Mercenaries — The  Prison  of  the  Bisl)0|is — The 
Conspiracy  of  Bourl)on — The  Dungeon  of  .Saint  Vallicr — 
Later  Prisoners — Kochcchouart — The  Legend  of  I'ontbril- 
lant — The  Inscriptions. 


C0Nr£.V7'S 


CIIAl'TICR    IX 

PACK 

Langeais  and  Charles  VIII.  .  .  .160 

Position  of  Langeais — The  Angevin  Fortress — The  present 
Building — Its  Architecture — The  Castle  of  Pierre  de  la 
Brosse — The  Chateau  of  Jean  Bourrec — Anne  dc  Bretagne 
— Her  Face — Her  Character — Iler  First  Marriage — The 
Marcchal  de  Gic — The  Invasion  of  Italy — The  Crossing 
of  the  Alps  by  Charles  VIII. 's  Army — Extraordinary 
Success  of  the  French  in  Italy — ^Mistakes  of  Louis  d'Or- 
leans — The  River  Taro — Return  of  the  King — His  Death 
in  1498 — Rabelais  at  Langeais — Death  of  the  "Chevalier 
de  Langey  " — Later  Owners — The  Park  and  the  River. 


CHAPTER   X 

Cmaumont  and  Louis  XII.    .....       187 

Tlie  fust  Castle  in  Angevin  Times  destroyed — The  second 
Castle  destroyed  by  Louis  XI. — The  third  Castle  built 
by  Philibert  de  I'Orme — Its  Architecture — Changes  in  its 
Structure — Vouth  of  Charles  d'Amboise — His  Importance 
in  Louis  XII. 's  Reign  —  His  Ambition  for  the  Papacy 
— The  King's  second  Marriage — D'Amboise  is  brought 
a  Cardinal's  Hat  by  Ccesar  Borgia — Improvements  in 
Domestic  Policy  during  the  Reign — "The  Father  of  his 
Country  " — Campaigns  in  Italy — Scenes  at  Milan  and  Pisa 
— Garigliano — The  Marriage  of  Claude  de  France — Death 
of  Cardinal  d'Amboise — "Laissezfaire  a  Georges" — Death 
of  Gaston  de  Foix  at  Ravenna — Ill-fortune  of  the  French 
in  Italy — Death  of  Anne  de  Bretagne  and  of  the  King — 
Diana  at  Chaumont — Later  History  of  the  Castle — Its 
old  Tapestry  and  its  Rooms. 

CHAPTER   XI 

The  Reign  of  Francis  I.      .  .  .  .  .211 

"  Le  grand  gar9on  qui  gatera  tout  " — Memories  of  him  in 
Touraine — The  "  Amadis  of  a  Later  Gaul  " — His  deal- 
ings with  the  Emperor  Charles  V. — The  Reformation — 
Marisrnano — The  Concordat — The  Election — The  Field 


PAGE 


CONTENTS 


of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  —  Disgraceful  Condemnation  of 
Jacques  de  Beaune  Semblancay — Early  Career  of  Charles, 
Constable  de  Bourbon — Attacked  by  Louise  de  Savoio  and 
driven  into  Rebellion — "Tout  est  perdu  fors  I'honneur" 
— The  I'risons  of  Madrid — Death  of  Bayard — Marguerite's 
Visit  to  her  sick  Brother — Return  of  the  King — His  new 
Wife — His  new  Mistress — Bourbon  in  Italy — The  Sack 
of  Rome — Distress  in  France — Death  of  Louise  de  Savoie 
— Her  despicable  Character — The  Italian  Marriage — 
Power  of  the  Emperor  and  his  Visit  to  France — Old  Age 
of  Francis  —  His  peculiarly  "French"  Characteristics 
— Strange  Nature  of  the  Times  in  which  he  lived — Mar- 
guerite de  Navarre  and  the  Reformation — The  "  Danse 
Macabre  "  of  the  early  sixteenth  Century  —  Holbein's 
"Simulachres  de  la  Mort  " — Death  of  Marguerite. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Chenonceaux.    The  Reign  of  Henry  II.  .  .  .       240 

First  View  of  the  Chateau — The  Fortress  of  the  Marques — 
Catherine  Bri9onnet's  Building  —  Its  Architecture  — 
Thomas  Bohier,  "  Surintendant  des  Finances" — His 
Death  in  Italy — Misfortunes  of  his  Son — Visit  of  Francis 
I.  and  the  Dauphin — Business-like  Proceedings  of  Diana 
—  A  sixteenth  -  century  Lawsuit — "  Le  Proprictaire 
Malgre  Lui" — The  Character  and  Personal  Appearance 
of  Diane  de  Poitiers — Her  first  Reception  at  Court  and 
subsetjuent  Career — Her  Party — The  "Coup  de  Jarnac" 
— Mistakes  of  Henry  II. 's  Reign — Coligny  and  the  Party 
of  Reform. 

Index     ........      269 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Pencil  drawing  by  Jane  E.  Cook,  from  a  bust  in  lerra-cotta 
of  a  Magistrate  in  Touraine  of  the  sixteenth  century,  prob- 
ably by  Michel  Columbe      ....      Frontispiece 

Vignette,  from  an  eighteenth-century  design  (drawn  by  J.   E. 

Cook)  .......  I 

Facsimile  of  Rabelais'  Signature,  from  the  Calorie  des  Estampes, 

Bibliotheque  Nationale         .....         29 

Tour  de  I'Horloge  at  Chinon  (from  a  drawing  by  C.  G.  Harper) 

to  face       37 

Fourteenth  -  century  Key,  from    the  Collection  of  M.   Lacosic, 

Paris  .......  50 

Ccesar  Borgia  (drawn  by  J.  E.  Cook),  from  the  woodcut  in  Paulus 

Jovius,  ed.  1575        .  .  .  .  .  .63 

The  Abbey  Church  of  Fontevrault  (from  a  photograph)        to  face       74 

Twelfth-century  Kitchen  at  Fontevrault    (from  a   drawing   by 

Viollet  le  Due)  .....      to  face      82 

The  Porcupine,  Badge  of  Louis  XII.  and  the  House  of  Orleans, 

from  the  Chateau  of  Blois  (drawn  by  J.  E.  Cook)     .  .         92 

Porch  of  the  Collegiate  Church  at  Lochcs  (from  a  photograph) 

to  face     116 

.Steeple  of  the  Collegiate  Church  at  Lochcs  (from  a  drawing  by 

VioUct  le  Due)  .  .  .  .120 

Hollow  Pyramids  in  the  roof  of  the  Collegiate  Ciiurch  at  Loclies 

(from  a  drawing  by  Viollet  le  Due)  .  .      to  face     125 

The  Chateau  of  Loches  from  beneath  (from  a  photograph)  to  face     12S 

The  Oratory  of  Anne  de  Uretagne  at  Loches  (from  a  pholograpi))       132 

Fourteenth-century  Key,   from  the  Collection   of  M.    I.acostc, 

Paris  .  .  .  .  .1.11 

The  Keep  and  Dungeons  of  I^jchca  (from  a  phutugraph)     to  face     147 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Arms  of  Langcciis — France  quartereil  willi  Urittany  (from  a 

drawing  by  Roy)       ......        i6o 

Langeais — Exterior  of  Chateau  (from  a  photograph)        .      to  face     163 
Plan  of  Langeais  (from  a  drawing  by  Roy)  .  .  .166 

Anne  de  Bretagne  (from  a  pencil  drawing  by  Jane  E.  Cook)      .        168 
Tomb  of  the  Children  of  Charles  VIII.  and  Anne  dc  Bretagne, 
carved  by  Jean  Juste,    in   the   Cathedral,  Tours   (from   a 
photograph  by  M.  Peigne,  Tours)     .  .  .     to  face     178 

Langeais — Interior  of  Courtyard  of  the  Chateau  (from  a  jilioto- 

graph)  ......     to  face     1S5 

Cardinal  Georges  d'Amboise  (drawn  by  Jane  E.  Cook),  from  the 

tomb  at  Rouen,  carved  by  Leroux    .  .  .  ,194 

Iron  Candlestick,  from  the  Room  of  Catherine  de  Medicis  at 

Chaumont  (drawn  by  J.  E.  Cook)    ....        206 

Francis  I.,  aged  34,  from  the  enamelled  terra-cotta  bust  in  the 
possession  of  the  Marquis  de  Bridieu,  Chateau  de  Sansac, 
Loches  (reproduced  by  permission  of  M.  Pcricat,  Tours) 

to  face     211 
Signature  of  Francis  I.,  from  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Paris       211 
Marguerite  de  Navarre,  sister  of  Francis  I.  (from  a  drawing  by 

J.  E.  Cook)  .......       227 

Arms  of  Chenonceaux — the  Bohier  Family  (from  a  drawing  by  J. 

E.  Cook)  ......        240 

The  Chateau  of  Chenonceaux  from  the  Entrance  Drive  (from  a 

photograph)  .....     to  face     242 

Henry  II.  of  PVance,  from  the  original  in  the  possession  of  M.  le 
Marquis  de  Biencourt  at  Azay-le-Rideau,by  Francois  Clouet 
(reproduced  by  permission  of  M.  Pericat,  Tours)     .      to  face     262 
Map  of  the  Valley  of  the  Loire   .  .  .  .  .at  end 


Nothing  is  there  to  come,  and  nothing  past, 
But  an  eternal  now  does  always  last," 


SoK€i  yo.p  elrac  ri  rw  reBveiori  Kac  kukuv  ko.I  uyadov. 


Beneath  the  lime  trees  on  the  terrace  walk 

I  sat,  and  watched  the  silver  of  the  moon 

Slip  softly  from  the  river  to  the  sands 

That  fring^e  with  pale  gold  bars  the  silent  Loire. 

The  busy  chirping  of  the  insect  wings, 

That  all  day  long  had  rustled  in  the  sun. 

Was  still  ;  the  tiny  lizards  on  the  wall, 

That  all  day  long  had  flitted  to  and  fro 

The  burning  stones,  had  vanished  ;  sweetly  fell 

A  silvern  silence  on  the  shadowed  fields 

Where  scarce  a  blade  of  grass  bent  to  the  breeze. 

The  gentle  breeze  of  evenings  in  Touraine 

Which  comes  but  to  caress  the  weary  l)row 

And  breathe  contentment  ;  from  the  darker  line, 

Where  the  soft  grey  of  heaven  kissed  the  earth, 

The  moon  rose  higher  to  the  cloudless  blue 

And  touched  with  light  the  tall  Cathedral  Towers, 

That  like  twin  sisters  rose  above  the  trees 

Crowned  with  the  evening  star. 


There  came  a  sound 
More  felt  llian  luaid,  as  of  tlic  rustling  \vini,'s 
Of  countless  souls  that  moved  in  ui)pcr  air 
Or  glided  with  the  moonbeams  through  the  niylit  ; 
Souls  of  the  dead  who  visited  the  homes 
Where  once  they  dwelt  ;  and  some  sought  all  in  vain 
And  some  who  found  seemed  sorrowful  to  liiul, 
Or,  with  a  horror  of  remembered  sin 
Pursuing  them,  shuddered  and  passed  alone  ; 
And  some  few,  near  the  old  Cathedral  Towers, 
Rested  awhile  in  peace,  as  though  to  kiss 
A  treasured  memory  within  the  stones. 
Softly  the  echoes  from  the  far-off  bell 
Whispered  along  the  river,  and  the  souls 
All  gathered,  so  methought,  within  the  fane. 
And  joined  their  silent  prayers  with  those  below 
Who  sang'  thanksgivings  ;  all  the  vault  of  night 
Seemed  full  of  harmonies  that  rose  and  fell 
Till  they  were  caught  up  to  the  heaven  above 
And  borne  amid  the  company  of  souls 
From  lesser  lights  to  higher,  where  the  stars 
Bent  down  to  listen. 

So  the  future  seemed 
To  mingle  with  the  past.      For  a  short  space 
I  saw  revealed  the  double  threads  that  bind 
This  little  speck  of  time  we  call  "To-day" 
To  the  great  cycle  of  unending  life 
That  has  been  and  that  shall  be  evermore. 


Tkiano.v,  St  Symi'Horien, 
Tours. 


# 


.  TABLE  OF  THE  DESCENT  OF  THE  ROYAL  HOUSES  or  FRANCE  FKOM  ST.  LOUIS  TO  LOUIS  XIV. 

Sliowing  llicir  Connection  with  the  Families  of  Navarre,  Lorraine,  Visconti,  Condi^  Ch&tillon,  and  Nassau,  and 

with  the  English  Kings. 


1  left  lo  rifihi. 


.  .•■' 

«r,w|™»-„(. .«, 

Jcunt,\ei«4trniui 

.,...»  W/.-.TI.F^,...,., 

J..Vi 

,.^i,..,v*,. 

.„...!. 

M             ,.^,!x. 

■*"   '"'"'"■■'■■" 

'■"•"""■ 

.,„l„v..,v.., 

'3^23^- 


ie«-       LJ   .,™.v.,  IL, 


2jM«™.VJ,.J.Vl„.n 


CHAPTER    1 


INTRODUCTORY 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    TOURAINE 

"With  kings  and  counsellors  of  the  earth,  wliicli  built  desolate 
places  for  themselves  ;  or  with  princes  that  had  gold,  who  filled  their 
houses  with  silver." 

The  old  province  of  Tourainc  very  nearly  corresponds 

to  the  modern  department 
of  the  Indre  ct  Loire, 
though  in  some  directions 
it  is  rather  more  extended. 
It  is  crossed  from  east  to 
.^^  west  by  the  rapid  and  sandy 


%4^ 


stream  of  the  Loire,  which 
flows  through  it  for  a  dis- 
tance (jf  some  ninety  kilo- 
metres from  a  point  not  far 
above  Ambcjisc  to  the  \allcy 
of  Fontcvrault.  The  three 
chief  Irilnitaries  of  the  Loire, 
at  this  part  of  its  course,  join 
the  river  from  its  southern  side  ;  and  with  very  few 
VOL.  I  11 


OLD   I-OURAIXE 


exceptions  it  is  with  this  left-hand  bank  of  the 
stream  that  wc  shall  chicll}-  ha\c  to  do,  our  limits 
being  Chambord  to  the  east,  in  the  department  of 
the  Loir  et  Cher,  and  to  the  west  Saimiin-,  in  the  old 
province  of  Anjou,  the  modern  department  of  the 
Maine  et  Loire. 

In  the  forests  to  the  north  and  east  of  Blois  are 
the  Chateaux  of  Chambord,  of  Cheverny,  and  Beaure- 
gard; while  farther  to  the  south  and  west  is  Chaumont 
looking  down  upon  the  Loire,  which  then  flows  be- 
neath the  ramparts  of  Amboise  westward  to  the 
cathedral  towers  of  Tours.  Upon  the  right  bank, 
farther  down,  are  Luynes,  Cinq  Mars,  and  Langcais  ; 
and  the  Cher,  which  near  here  flows  from  the  south- 
east into  the  Loire,  has  passed  the  galleries  of 
Chenonceaux,  some  sixty  kilometres  from  its  mouth. 
The  southern  waters  of  the  Indre  are  guarded  by 
the  rugged  keep  of  Loches,  and  by  Montbazon  farther 
westward,  and  finalh'  wintl  in  and  out  among  the 
trees  that  shade  Azay-le-Rideau,  before  losing  them- 
selves in  the  swifter  current  of  the  main  str-^am. 
At  Candes  the  river  is  still  further  swollen  by  the 
Vicnne,  which  after  passing  the  ruined  towers  of 
Chinon  has  flowed  by  the  Forest  of  Fontexrault  to 
add  its  story  to  the  many  voices  of  the  Loire. 

Perhaps  no  stream  in  so  short  a  portion  of  its 
course  has  so  much  history  to  tell.  Until  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century  this  part  of  l<"rance  was 
covered  with  a  multitude  of  chateaux,  for  beside  the 


INTRODUCTORY 


old  feudal  towers,  whose  strength  had  saved  them 
from  destruction  in  the  happier  times  of  peace,  the 
nobles  of  later  days  had  raised  more  elegant  abodes, 
in  which  they  strove  to  preserve  only  what  had 
been  picturesque  in  the  earlier  fortified  dwellings. 
B\'  the  wars  of  religion  and  the  disturbances  of 
the  Fronde  a  great  number  of  the  chateaux  had  been 
ruined  or  defaced  :  by  the  line  of  policy  which  was 
begun  by  Louis  XI.  and  carried  on  by  Henry  IV.  to 
receive  its  full  development  at  the  hands  of  Richelieu 
and  Louis  XIV.,  the  old  feudal  spirit  had  been  finally 
crushed  ;  even  architecture  took  an  cntircl)-  different 
form. 

The  Court,  which  for  so  man)'  centuries  had  moved 
to  and  fro  among  the  pleasant  castles  of  Tourainc, 
migrated  towards  Paris,  and  filled  the  wide  walks 
and  never-ending  gardens  of  Versailles  and  Fontaine- 
bleau  :  the  last  of  the  old  feudal  barons  was  Agrippa 
d'Aubigne,  the  friend  and  comrade  in  arms  of  Henry 
of  Xavarre,  who  kept  his  fortresses  till  he  left  France, 
and  then  sold  them  to  the  Rohans.  By  the  Revolu- 
tion the  old  chateaux  were  within  an  ace  of  being 
destroyed  for  ever  ;  the  "  crown  of  Cybele "  in 
Tourainc  lost  nearly  half  its  beaut)-,  for  with  chang- 
ing times  the  life  of  other  centuries  perished,  and 
"  like  an  unsubstantial  pageant  faded,"  though 
legends  of  it  and  memories  of  it  still  cling  to  the 
ruined  walls  like  the  ivy  which  a  kindly  soil  has  lent 
to  hide  their  falling  gateways.      It  is  true  that  here 


OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


and  aL;ain  a  new  life  mingles  with  the  oUl,  bill  many 
of  the  ancient  homes  stand  empt)-  and  deserted,  or, 
saddest  fate  of  all,  await  richer  i)urchascrs  to  save 
them  from  destruction. 

Chenonceaux  is  in  the  tj^rip  of  a  L;reat  Paris  corn- 
pan}-  ;  in  Amboisc,  where  iVbd-el-Kader  chafed  in 
prison,  where  Marie  Stuart  sighed  over  the  slaughtered 
Huguenots,  no  courtly  laughter  comes  again  to  grace 
the  mutilated  halls,  for  the  Orleans  princes  abode 
there  but  a  little  while,  and  have  left  it  dead  again, 
Loches  seems  happier  as  the  seat  of  a  Sous-Prefct, 
who  dwells  by  the  tomb  of  Agnes  Sorel  ;  Plessis-lez- 
Tours  is  worst  changed  of  all.  The  churches  of 
the  Middle  Ages  live  on  still  and  have  a  meaning 
f(^r  us  even  in  their  ruins,  for  the  faith  that  built 
them  is  among  us  still  ;  but  the  feudal  castles 
belong  to  a  life  and  a  time  so  different  from  our 
own  that  to  understand  them  at  all  we  must  go  back 
to  the  history  of  which  they  formed  a  part  ;  we 
must  try,  as  well  and  shortly  as  may  be,  to  people 
these  walls  that  are  still  echoing  with  a  larger  and  a 
fuller  life  than  ours,  to  realise  the  men  who  built 
them  and  lived  in  them,  to  imagine  fcjr  oursches 
that  dead  and  gone  feudalism  in  the  midst  of  which 
the  youth  of  the  P^rench  nation  grew  hard  and  strong. 

Nor  is  it  difficult  to  discover  a  reason  for  the 
interest  and  fascination  which  the  modern  world 
finds,  and  will  always  find,  in  that  old  life :  we 
arc  perpetually  receiving    pleasant   shocks    from   its 


INTRODUCTORY 


astounding  originality,  from  the  unexpected  nature 
of  its  modes  of  thought  and  action.  An  age  un- 
fettered by  the  later  restrictions  of  what  is  called 
society,  by  a  morality  from  which  it  results  that  the 
actions  of  any  given  man  in  any  given  position  can 
often  be  accurately  foretold,  a  generation  which  was 
innocent  of  Kant,  and  ignorant  of  Herbert  Spencer, 
could  well  preserve  a  spontaneity  and  freshness  of 
impulse,  an  individuality  of  method  and  resource 
which  is  as  strange  as  it  is  fascinating  to  men  of  a 
later  and  more  conventional  society  ;  for  the  passions 
of  its  barbarism  mingle  in  curious  ways  with  lighter 
fantasies  of  the  imagination,  with  a  deeper  and  more 
heartfelt  poetic  feeling.  But  in  this  very  freedom 
of  the  feudal  age  lay  the  germs  of  its  decay.  The 
system  that  liberated  the  warriors  of  the  time  from 
all  the  higher  bonds  imposed  by  the  idea  of  Nation- 
ality had  placed  in  society  a  principle  of  anarchy 
that  was  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  a  great 
country,  that  favoured  private  civil  wars,  that  made 
a  national  resistance  impossible,  and  was  the  source 
of  the  terrible  disasters  of  the  Hundred  Years'  War. 
William  the  Conqueror,  at  the  conquest  of  iMigland, 
had  discovered  long  before  the  rest  of  France  the 
defects  of  the  old  system,  and  had  broken  the  mould 
of  Feudalism  ;  ^  it  was  one  of  the  many  signs  of  his 
greatness  that  he  had  done  so. 

There   is  yet  another    fact   which,   while    it   adds 

'  C.  Coi^jnct.  /■lancois  I. 


OLD  TOURAINE 


one  more  reason  for  our  interest  in  these  early  days, 
is  itself  the  mainspring  of  much  of  their  hot-blooded 
impulse  and  versatile  emotion  :  in  no  other  countr}' 
have  women  exercised  so  great  an  influence  upon 
politics  and  the  whole  life  of  the  peoi)le  as  in  France. 
It  has  been  truly  said  that  thc}'  have  avenged  the 
passing  of  the  Salic  law  ;  but  they  have  done  more  : 
throughout  French  history,  even  down  to  modern 
times,  the  motto  which  guides  the  historian's  re- 
searches is  "  Cherchez  la  Femme."  F"rom  the 
heroine  of  Charles  VII.  down  to  the  grand-daughter 
of  that  Agrippa  d'Aubigne  already  mentioned, 
their  ambition  and  their  influence  for  good  or  evil 
have  been  exhibited  by  women  who  understood 
better  than  those  of  any  other  nation  how  to  wield 
the  weapons  peculiar  to  their  sex.  It  is  the  same 
in  later  as  in  earlier  times.  "  The  vice  of  the  six- 
teenth century,"  says  IMichelet,  "  is  the  unrestrained 
outburst  of  its  passion,  its  blind  desire  for  physical 
enjoyment,  which  outraged  what  it  loved."  The 
reaction  was  a  matter  of  course.  The  skilful  wit  of 
woman  and  her  "  sweet  reasonableness"  laid  hold  upon 
this  strong  brutality  and  governed  it.  The  sixteenth 
century  was  the  reign  of  woman ;  from  the  days  when 
the  Pisan  girls  surrounded  Charles's  army  and  melted 
their  hard  hearts  to  tears,  to  the  cscadron  volant  of 
the  Valois  Court,  it  is  by  women  that  the  century 
is  troubled,  corrupted,  civilised.  Fven  in  Mero- 
vingian  times  the   loves   and    hates  of  Fredegonde 


INTRODUCTORY 


and  of  Hrunhilda  ^  gave  a  theme  to  poets  of  Tourainc, 
and  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  period  with  w  hicli 
these  chapters  chiefly  deal  we  have  three  such 
opposing  influences  as  the  shameless  Isabel  of 
Bavaria,  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  and  Agnes  Sorel. 
Immediately  after  Louis  XL's  death  the  masculine 
firmness  and  ability  of  his  daughter  Anne  dc  Bcaujeu 
is  replaced  by  the  quiet  womanly  tcnacit}'  of  the  twice- 
crowned  little  Breton  Queen.  The  baneful  influ- 
ence Louise  de  Savoie  exercised  over  her  son  Francis 
was  but  half  counteracted  by  the  gentleness  and 
mysticism  of  his  sister  Marguerite  :  Francis  was  the 
plax'thing  of  his  mistresses.  The  next  reign  is  indeed 
the  reign  of  a  woman.  Diane  de  Poitiers,  Duchess 
of  Valentinois,  was  ruler  of  the  destinies  of  France, 
and  powerful  enough  even  to  crush  the  venomous 
Italian  Queen  into  subjection  for  a  time  ;  but  the 
day  of  Catherine  of  Medicis  was  not  long  in  coming, 
and  for  three  more  reigns  her  hand  was  at  the  throat 
of  France,  her  influence  poisoning  its  Court.  Many 
more  notable  women  there  arc — Marie  Stuart  and  La 
Rcinc  Margot,  Gabrielle  d'Estrees,  and  yet  another 
Medicis  but  little  better  than  the  first  and  far  less 
wi.sc,  until  we  come  to  Louise  de  la  Vallicre,  and 
sec  among  the  mistresses  of  Louis  XIV.  the  widow 
of  Scarron  standing  apart,  "  the  most  influential 
woman  of  French  history,"  Madame  de  Maintcnon, 
wh(j  was  to  be  the  lawful  wife  of  the  King. 
'  Sec  Thierry's  Rtciti  Maovingicns. 


OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


All  of  these  has  Tourainc  welcomed  at  some 
time  or  another,  to  one  of  its  many  jxalaccs,  beneath 
the  soft  sunshine  of  the  Loire  valley,  where  energy 
and  sustained  action  seem  a  thing  contrary  to 
nature,  in  the  country  of  Rabelais,  the  home  of 
Ro}-al  favourites,  the  afternoon-land  of  idleness  and 
laughter.  Here  the  grass  is  as  green  in  .August 
as  in  May  among  the  orchards  and  the  groves. 
Look  across  the  ri\er  at  the  other  bank  and  it 
will  seem  hanging  in  the  air,  so  faithfully  is  cknid 
and  sky  reflected  in  the  stream.  The  sands  that 
line  the  river's  bed  are  fringed  with  willows  bending 
down  as  if  to  sip  its  waters  ;  poplars,  aspens,  and 
acacias  shade  the  stream,  where  countless  little 
islets  break  the  siher  current.  As  Victor  Hugo 
sang  of  Bievre — 

"  Une  riviere  au  fond,  des  bois  sur  les  deux  ])cntes, 
Lk  des  orneaux  brodes  de  cent  vignes  grimpantes 
Des  pres  ou  le  fauchcur  brunit  son  bras  nerveux, 
Lk  des  saules  pensifs  qui  pleurent  sur  la  rive 
Et  comma  une  baigneuse  indolente  et  naive 
Laissent  tremper  dans  I'eau  le  bout  de  leurs  cheveux." 

A  soft  and  sensual  country  is  it,  where  the  idea 
came  naturally  to  D'Arbrissel  to  make  a  woman 
queen  of  his  monastery.^ 

Nor  are  these  memories  of  men  and  women  who 
have  lived  the  only  ones  with  which  Touraine  is 
filled  ;  scarcely  less  real,  and  with  an  added   charm 

^  Michelet,  vol.  ii. 


IXTRODUCTORY 


from  the  genius  of  their  creators,  are  the  characters 
from  Balzac,  from  Rabelais,  from  George  Sand  that 
moved  and  had  their  being  in  the  valley — and 
English  readers  will  before  all  recognise  the  scenes 
in  which  young  Quentin  Durward  played  his  part, 
the  postern  gate  through  which  he  rode  out  of  Plessis 
with  the  Ladies  of  Cro)-e,  so  soon  to  be  pursued  by 
Dunois  and  Orleans.  Chenonceaux  reminds  us  of 
"  Lcs  Huguenots  "  as  much  as  of  Diana.  The  halls 
of  Chambord  arc  still  crowded  with  the  courtiers 
watching  Marion  Delorme,  and  in  the  streets  of 
Blois  there  stands  the  lamp-post  beneath  which  her 
lover  fought  his  duel  and  was  taken  by  the  King's 
officers.  There  is  scarce  an  abbc}-  in  Tourainc  but 
finds  its  own  story  among  the  Contes  Drolatiques,  not 
a  landscape  but  has  its  more  delicate  associations  with 
a  Felix  or  a  Lucien,  even  a  Duchesse  de  Langeais. 
The  very  house  where  the  terrible  old  maid  who 
tortured  the  Cure  de  Tours  resided,  rises  hard  by 
the  cathedral  walls  with  the  great  buttress  en- 
croaching upon  its  quiet  garden  close.  Dumas' 
musketeers  are  laughing  in  the  Salle  des  Gardes 
at  Blois,  and  the  rattle  of  their  swords  as  they 
fence  upon  the  staircases  is  ringing  even  in  the 
King's  chambers  beyond  ;  and  Athos'  house  nn"glit 
still  be  seen,  to  which  K.ioul  rode  nut  tVwm  Hlois 
after  a  certain  stolen  intcr\iew  with  a  young  lady 
distrusted  by  his  father.  Jean  Jaccjues  Rousseau 
has    wandered     in     the     groves     of    Chenonceaux  ; 


OLD  TOURAINE 


Madame  de  Stael  has  watched  the  wideninc^  Loire 
at  Chaumont.  The  brilh'ant  pamphlets  of  Paul 
Louis  Courier  come  into  our  miiul  in  the  little 
town  of  Luynes  ;  at  Loches  we  recall  De  Vigny's 
vivid  romance  and  the  fall  of  the  unhappy  Cinq  Mars. 
Near  Blois, 

"  Cctte  maison 
Qu'on  volt,  batie  en  pierre,  ct  d'ardoise  couvertc, 
Blanche  et  carree,  au  bas  de  la  collinc  verte," 

is  the  house  where  Victor  Hugo  spent  his  childhood. 
In  endless  wa}-s  the  genius  of  the  place  has 
been  embodied  and  personified.  Rabelais  is  full 
of  touches  of  the  true  spirit  of  Touraine,  the  life 
of  plenty,  and  the  love  of  wine,  and  midday  siestas 
in  the  autumn  sun  of  good  fat  priests,  their  paunches 
"  with  fat  capon  lined,"  in  abbeys  that  were  his 
models  for  the  great  vision  of  Thelema. 

Such  is  the  Touraine  to  the  early  history  of  which 
we  must  now  turn,  and  first  to  its  focal  point  the  town 
of  Tours.  If  there  is  one  thing  for  which  Tours  is 
famous  it  is  for  its  soldier-saint  and  the  victory  of 
Charles  Martel.  In  718  the  Arabs,  who  held  nearl}- 
the  whole  of  Spain,  poured  over  the  P\-renees  into  the 
Narbonese  district  ;  they  were  driven  back  b\-  Odo 
from  Toulouse  and  from  Provence,  but  they  sacked 
Autun  not  long  afterwards,  and  in  732  Abd-el- 
Rahman,  the  commander  of  the  Khalif's  arm\'  in 
Spain,  took  Bordeaux,  ravaged  Aquitaine,  and  ad- 
vanced to  the  plunder  of  the  rich  see  of  St.  Martin 


TOUR  A I XE  EARLY  HISTORY 


at  Tours.  At  this  time  the  town  was  united  with 
the  rest  of  Gaul,  and  the  vigorous  Charles  Martel 
was  j\Iayor  of  the  Palace  ;  he  led  out  his  small 
forces  against  the  advancing  squadrons  of  the  In- 
fidels, and  between  Tours  and  Poitiers  (the  exact 
spot  is  not  known)  "  the  young  ci\"iIisations  of 
Europe  and  Asia  stood  face  to  face,"  the  scimitar 
of  the  Eastern  horseman  tried  conclusions  with  the 
broadsword  of  the  West.  One  of  the  decisive  battles 
in  the  world's  history  was  won  by  Charles  Martel  ; 
the  incredible  number  of  300,000  Arabs  are  reported 
to  have  fallen  with  their  leader,  and  the  Saracens 
were  finally  driven  out  of  the  midst  of  France. 

But  there  was  a  Tours  before  Charles  INIartcl, 
although  its  history  does  not  go  back  (like  that  of 
Langeais  and  Amboisc  ^)  before  the  Roman  con- 
quest. Its  early  name  Caesarodunum  first  occurs  in 
the  Itinerary  of  Antonine,  and  by  the  third  ccntur}' 
it  is  already  a  free  State,  the  Civitas  Turonum  ;  the 
inscriptions  proving  this  were  discovered  in  1 7  i  i  on 
the  old  foundations  of  the  city  wall,  which  arc  still 
to  be  seen  in  the  cellars  of  the  archbishop's  palace. 

Of  this  Roman  time  we  can  distinguish  two 
periods :  the  first,  some  three  centuries  of  ease 
and   prosperity  ;  ^     the    second,    a    time  of  military 

*  Langeais  (Alingavia),  Amboisc  (Ambacia),  Chinon  (Caiiio),  and 
Candes  (Candate)  are  of  Gallic  origin.  See  E.  Mabillc,  Bibl.  de  Pkolt 
cits  Charles,  3me  Seric,  Art.  "Tourainc." 

*  For  details  of  the  costume  about  this  period  see  the  carvings  on  tlie 
tomb  'f  •'!'■  f'onsul  Torinus  at    Kheims,  showing  the  (Jallo-Ronian 


OLD  TOURAINE 


occupation,  of  fighting  which  was  to  last  for  many 
\-car.s,  when  new  walls  were  hurriedly  reared  out  of 
the  debris  of  the  older  and  more  peaceful  town  which 
extended  over  the  ground  covered  by  the  chateau, 
the  cloisters  of  St.  Gatien,  and  the  Archevcche. 
The  ruined  walls  of  the  fifth  century  may  still  be 
seen,  in  fragments,  with  the  capitals  and  carvings 
hastily  built  into  them,  as  Themistoclcs  built  the  first 
walls  that  strengthened  Athens :  they  lasted  until 
1202,  with  the  addition  of  some  strengthening 
towers  which  looked  out  over  the  vines  and  gardens 
that  covered  what  is  now  the  Rue  Royale. 

This  Caesarodunum  was  the  cradle  of  Gaulish 
Christianity  ;  ^  St.  Gatien  had  been  one  of  seven 
missionaries  sent  out  from  Rome  to  evangelise  the 
Gallic  provinces  ;  St.  Lidorius,  the  second  bishop, 
began  the  Cathedral  Church  in  memory  of  his  pre- 
decessor. This  cathedral,  the  oldest  foundation  in 
Touraine,  was  dedicated  to  St.  IMaurice  until  the 
thirteenth  century.  The  first  building  was  burnt  in 
561  and  rebuilt  by  Gregory.  After  the  fire  of  1 166 
the  present  structure  was  begun  in  1170;  by  1260 
the  greater  part  was  finished  and  definitely  dedicated 
to  St.  Gatien  ;   in  1426  the  twin  towers  were  begun, 

knight  going  hunting  with  spear  and  hound,  clad  in  short  tunic  and 
buskin,  with  the  shoulder-clasped  cloak,  which  recalls  the  memory  of 
the  great  centurion's  charity. 

^  It  also  formed  the  centre  of  a  system  by  which  the  great  Roman 
roads  connected  and  bound  together  Poitiers,  Chartres,  Bourges,  Orleans, 
Le  Mans,  and  Angers — in  many  cases  the  modern  roads  follow  these 
lines  ;  there  are  always  traces  of  the  old  ones. 


TOURAIXE  EARLY  HISTORY  13 

and  soon  afterwards  the  sculptures  of  the  grand 
facade  were  finished,  but  the  larger  tower  was  not 
completed  until  1500  and  its  sister  some  fifty  years 
later. 

The  Romans  completed  the  foundation  of  French 
civilisation,  and  then  passed  away,  but  the  Roman 
Church  remained.  Before  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century  St.  iMartin,  third  and  most  famous  of  the 
bishops  of  Tours,  had  left  the  service  of  the  Emperor 
Julian  to  engage  under  the  Christian  Cross.  From 
every  side,  and  in  great  numbers,  the  pagans  poured 
in  to  be  converted  to  the  faith,  and  the  good  bishop 
was  constrained  to  retreat  for  rest  to  his  little  cell 
at  St.  S}'mphorien,  backed  by  the  limestone  rock 
and  peering  down  across  the  greensward  to  the 
river,  where  later  on  was  to  rise  the  noble  Abbey  of 
Marmoutier,  whose  greatest  abbot  was  the  famous 
Alcuin  of  York.  The  immense  popularity  of  St. 
IMartin,  both  in  England  and  France,  is  evident  from 
the  vast  number  of  legends  connected  with  his  name 
upon  the  Continent,  and  from  the  fact  that  even 
after  the  purging  of  the  Calendar  his  name  remained 
upon  the  list  of  saints  recognised  by  the  luiglish 
Church.  The  first  church  dedicated  to  St.  IMartin 
was  built  by  his  successor  ;  the  ne.xt,  which  was 
burnt  in  994,  was  rebuilt  by  llcr\c  in  1014,  and  only 
two  towers  of  it  remain,  the  Tour  dc  rilorlogc  and 
the  Tour  de  Charlemagne,  in  the  R(jniano-B}'7.antine 
style,   with    traces   of  rcstoraticjn    in    twelfth -century 


14  OLD  TOURAINE 


Gothic.  The  tomb  of  St.  Martin  was  the  ancient 
sanctuary,  the  Delphic  oracle  of  France,  the  centre 
of  the  Merovinq^ian  workV  where  its  kini^^s  came  to 
question  destiny  at  the  shrine  round  wliich  the 
Counts  of  Blois  and  of  Anjou  broke  so  many  lances. 
Mans,  Angers,  and  all  l^rittany  were  dependent  on 
the  see  of  Tours,  whose  canons  were  the  Capets  and 
the  Dukes  of  l^urgundy  and  lirittany,  the  Count  of 
Flanders  and  the  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  the  i\rch- 
bishops  of  Mayence,  of  Cologne,  and  Compostella. 
At  Tours  there  was  a  mint  for  money  as  good  as 
that  at  Paris,  and  in  very  earl\-  times  silk  and  precious 
tissues  were  made  here  of  finer  fabric  than  in  all  the 
rest  of  France,  until  Nantes  and  Lyons  joined  the 
capital  in  competition  with  the  older  centre. 

But  soon  after  St.  Martin's  days,  by  419,  the 
Visigoths  were  in  Poitou  and  Berry,  and  in  a  {cw 
years  the  "  Tractus  Armoricanus  "  revolted  from  the 
yoke  of  Rome  ;  then  the  Tourangeaux  joining  the 
men  of  Anjou  and  ]\Iaine  entered  the  great  con- 
federacy of  rebellion  and  chased  from  Touraine  the 
Romans,  who  by  446  had  lost  all  hold  upon  the 
province.  Long  years  of  struggle  follow  between 
Visigoths  and  P'ranks,  until  in  507  Clovis  finally 
conquered  Alaric,  and  Touraine  becomes  a  pro\ince 
of  the  P'ranks,  in  whose  hands  it  remained  with 
several    unimportant    changes    of  ownership    for   the 

^  Michelet,  vol.  ii.      In  Cailovingian  times  this  "centre"  of  faith 
and  activity  was  transferred  to  Anjou. 


TO  I  'RAINE  EA  RL  1 '  HIS  TOR  V  1 5 

next  two  centuries.  In  the  time  of  Charles  Martel 
the  Abbey  of  St,  ^Martin  was  in  its  greatest  splendour; 
there  is  still  a  relic  left,  in  the  modern  library  of 
Tours/  of  its  ancient  magnificence  and  culture,  in 
the  Gospel  written  in  gold  letters  upon  vellum,  upon 
which  the  French  kings  took  their  oaths.  Half  a 
century  later  Alcuin,  pupil  of  the  Venerable  Bede, 
had  been  sent  for  by  Charlemagne  from  Rome  to  be 
made  Bishop  of  Tours,  and  here  in  his  famous  school 
he  taught  the  King's  sons,  Charles,  Pepin,  and  Louis." 
In  800,  Luitgard,  the  wife  of  Charlemagne,  the 
"guardian  of  her  people,"  was  buried  in  the  church 
of  St.  :\Iartin. 

During  the  ne.xt  century  Tours  was,  to  her  sor- 
row, again  the  bulwark  of  that  part  of  France  against 
invading  barbarism,  but  no  Charles  Martel  was  at 
hand  to  help,  and  these  new  invaders  proved  more 
troublesome  than  the  Saracens.  The  terrible  pirates 
from  the  North  had  rowed  up  the  Loire  and  burned 
St.  Martin's  Abbey,  and  the  sacred  body  of  the  saint 
had  to  be  moved  out  of  danger  and  brought  back, 
tradition  says,  by  one  Ingelger  in  805.  The  second 
"  reversion  "  of  the  same  kind  occasioned  the  legend 
of  the    saint's   bod)',   borne   up   by   his  worshippers, 

'  Sec  nolo  on  this  lilirary  in  the  A|tpen(iix. 

-  Sec  Alcuin's  Letters,  /Jo/n  Hoitijtut,  v.  O05.  He  wiiles  lo  Cliarle- 
magnc  to  Ik-  allowed  to  send  to  England  for  some  books,  the  "  (lowers 
of  British  learning  ;  so  that  they  may  he  found  not  only  in  the  garden 
close  of  York,  but  that  Tourainc  also  may  have  its  share  in  the 
fruits  of  I'aradi.se. " 


l6  OLD   TOCRAIXK 


having  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens,  probably 
in  the  actual  siege  of  90 3. 

At  the  rebuilding  of  the  city  King  Charles  (the 
Simple)  granted  the  men  of  Tours  a  charter  for  a 
fortified  borough,  subject  only,  like  that  of  St.  Denis 
at  Paris,  to  its  own  abbot  the  Duke  of  the  French. 
]^y  the  side  of  the  old  town  of  St.  (iatien,  the 
Ca;sarodunum  of  the  Romans,  arose  the  town  of  St. 
Martin  with  its  especial  wall  and  moat,  the  Martino- 
polis  within  which  Henr}'  II.  built  his  Chateauneuf, 
and  which  was  onl\'  united  to  its  neighbour  in  1350 
to  make  a  better  resistance  to  the  English.  Within 
these  walls  was  the  Abbey  of  St.  Martin,  where  h\ilk 
the  Good,  Count  of  Anjou,  might  so  often  be  seen 
sitting  in  his  stall  next  to  the  Dean.  Of  the  An- 
gevin chateau,  built  upon  the  ruins  of  the  old  Roman 
palace,  only  the  Tour  de  Guise  remains,  and  a  stone 
preserved  in  the  gardens  of  the  Prefecture  car\cd 
with  what  looks  like  the  well-known  Pompcian  grouj) 
of  two  doves  drinking  from  a  cuj).^  A  still  older 
structure  than  this  was  the  Tour  du  roi  Ilugon, 
haunted  by  the  legends  of  this  mythical  personage, 
which  was  destro}-ed  in  the  eighteenth  centur\'.  By 
an  ancestor  of  Henry  II.,  the  Count  luides  II.  of 
Anjou,  was  built  the  bridge  over  the  Loire  in  1031, 
of  which  some  remnants  are  still  left  upon  the  right 
ban]-:  :    the  present  bridge  was  begun  in   1765. 

^  This  stone  has  been  described  with  more  zeal  than  accuracy  as 
"  the  funereal  monument  of  Turnus." 


TO  L  'KA IXE  EA  RLY  HIS  TORY  17 

Of  the  Angevin  Princes  we  must  know  more. 
The  sketch  of  later  histor\'  in  Tours  (so  far  as  it  is 
not  aUuded  to  in  subsequent  chapters)  will  be  found 
in  the  last  chapter  on  the  town,  which  brings  its  story 
shortly  down  to  modern  days.  The  Counts  of  Anjou 
are  the  ancestors  of  the  Plantagenets  whom  we  shall 
meet  at  our  first  castle  of  Chinon,  and  it  is  with  their 
extraordinary  rise  to  power  and  importance  that  we 
have  now  to  deal. 


VOL,  I 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    COUNTS    OF    ANJOU 

"  rugneiit  ipsique  nepotesque." — \'irgii,. 

r^KOM  the  wrilinL^s  of  John,  a  monk  of  Alarnioulicr, 
and  Thomas  I'aclius,  Prior  of  Lochcs,  we  hear  of  one 
Tortulf,  a  Breton,  who  especially  distinguished  him- 
self b}-  his  bold  defence  of  the  valleys  of  Touraine 
against  the  pirates  ;  his  son  Ingelger,  already 
mentioned  in  connection  with  the  return  (jf  St. 
Martin's  body  to  the  church  of  Tours,  married  the 
niece  of  the  Archbishop  and  took  Amboise  as  his 
dowry.  But  later  researches^  cast  some  doubt  on 
these  facts.  The  first  name  which  may  be  considered 
as  historically  accurate  is  the  reputed  son  of  Ingelger, 
Fulk  the  Red,  Count  of  Anjou,  who,  whatever  his 
ancestors  may  have  been,  was  the  first  of  a  remark- 
able line  of  princes,  stamped  all  with  a  strong 
family  likeness,  with  the  same  characteristics  of 
energy  and  thoroughness,  and  endowed  with  \-er)' 
brilliant    and   varied    natural    powers    crossed    by    a 

'  Mabille.  loc.  cit.     Salmon,  Supplement  an  rceucil  des  Chroiiiqiies 
Jc  Touraine. 


THE  COUNTS  OF  AXJOU  19 

strange  vein  of  spasmodic  and  unreasonable  piety 
or  superstition. 

The  little  kingdom  of  Anjou,  given  to  its  first 
counts  by  Odo  of  Paris  in  reward  for  their  services 
against  the  dreaded  pirates,  was  wedged  in  between 
the  Loire,  the  Sarthe,  and  the  Mayennc,  and  in  the 
hands  of  less  energetic  owners  would  have  been 
inevitably  swallowed  up  in  the  possessions  of  the 
powerful  Counts  of  Blois,  had  not  these  latter  shown 
as  much  of  irresolution  and  weakness  as  their  life- 
long opponents  possessed  of  keen  and  unwearying 
activity.  Alone  of  all  his  race  the  second  Count, 
Fulk  the  Good,  waged  no  wars  and  took  but  little  part 
in  politics  :  of  him  is  related  the  story  that  when  on 
his  way  to  Tours  from  his  own  province  he  met  a 
leper  desiring  to  be  carried  to  the  shrine  of  St.  ]\Iartin  ; 
the  good  Fulk  lifted  up  the  loathsome  burden 
which  every  other  passer-by  had  refused,  and  bore 
him  on  his  shoulders  to  the  shrine,  where  the  leper 
vanished  ;  and  it  was  revealed  to  Fulk,  as  he  was 
sitting  in  the  choir  of  the  church  he  loved  so  well, 
that  the  leper  was  the  Christ  Himself  His  son, 
Geoffrey  Greygown,  was  of  a  more  martial  character, 
and  helped  Hugh  Capet  to  his  throne  before  he  was 
laid  to  rest  with  his  father  in  the  Church  of  St. 
Martin. 

it  is  about  this  time  that  we  meet  with  legends 
of  an  Angevin  Count  having  married  a  lady  of  sur- 
passing beauty  and   somewhat  doubtful  antecedents, 


OLD   TOUR  A  INK 


not  unconiicctcd  with  the  lower  world.  The  myth 
is  probably  an  attcmjit  to  explain  the  strange  char- 
acter of  the  next  Count,  the  t\'pical  Angevin, 
Fulk  Nerra,  the  Black  Falcon,  who  must  have  been 
a  standing  enigma  to  his  contemporaries.  In  this 
strange  being  men  saw  wonderingly  "  mad  bursts  of 
passion  which  would  have  been  the  ruin  of  an 
ordinary  man,  but  which  seem  scarcely  to  have  made 
a  break  in  his  cool,  calculating,  far-seeing  policy,  a 
rapid  and  unerring  perception  of  his  own  ends,  a 
relentless  obstinacy  in  pursuing  them."  iLver}-  town 
in  Touraine  has  its  legend  of  the  Black  Count,  the 
great  builder  beneath  whose  hands  the  lower  reaches 
of  the  Loire  gradually  bristled  with  fortresses,  that 
were  each  one  a  solid  step  towards  the  one  dream  of 
his  life,  the  greatness  of  Anjou.  His  prowess  as  a 
fighter  was  shown  early  in  the  victory  of  Conquereux, 
where,  in  spite  of  Breton  pitfalls,  he  led  his  cavalry 
again  and  again  upon  the  foe,  "  as  the  storm  wind 
sweeps  down  upon  the  thick  cornrigs."  By  that 
victory  he  secured  the  lower  waters  of  the  Loire. 
Farther  up  he  held  Amboise  through  his  mother's 
right,  and  Loches  b}'  his  wife,  and  from  both  places 
he  dashed  out  upon  Touraine  against  the  power  of 
Odo,  Count  of  lilois,  in  the  beginnings  of  a  strife 
which  was  but  the  foreshadowing  of  the  quarrel 
between  Stephen  of  Blois  and  Ilenr}-  of  Anjou  for 
the  English  crown. 

In    pursuance   of  a   steady  policy  Fulk    built   his 


THE  COUXTS  OF  ANJOU 


fortresses  in  a  long  crescent  from  Angers  to  Amboise, 
cutting  out  Touraine  from  the  domains  of  Blois ; 
Loudun  and  IMircbeau  menaced  Saumur,  the  border 
fortress  which  held  the  valley  of  Vienne  ;  INIontrcsor 
was  kept  by  Roger  the  Devil,  between  the  Indre  and 
the  Cher,  on  whose  banks  was  the  keep  of  Montri- 
chard  ;  Langeais  and  Montbazon  threatened  Tours. 
From  his  high  tower  of  Loches,  beneath  which  his 
son,  the  future  Hammer  of  Anjou,  was  being  brought 
up  in  a  blacksmith's  forge,  the  Black  Count  looked 
out  across  the  lands  of  Beaulieu,  lit  up  by  the  rising 
sun,  and,  in  a  sudden  fit  of  repentance  for  much 
bloodshedding,  built  there,  in  1012,  an  abbey,  which 
was  consecrated  on  his  return  from  one  of  several 
visits  to  the  Holy  Land  undertaken  from  the  same 
strange  spasmodic  promptings  of  irregular  religion. 
Four  years  later,  after  several  victories  over  Odo 
of  Blois,  he  turned  his  restless  arms  from  Touraine 
northward  to  the  lands  of  Maine:  it  was  a  momentous 
change  of  policy,  the  first  link  in  the  chain  that  was 
to  stretch  across  the  borders  into  Normandy  and 
beyond  seas  to  England,  until  it  ended  in  the  mar- 
riage of  the  Empress  Matilda  to  Geoffrey  Piantagenet. 
But  for  the  moment  farther  advance  northward 
was  stopped  by  a  resolute  attack  from  l^lois,  which 
the  Black  Falcon  checked  with  his  usual  vigour. 
Swooping  ujjon  Saumur,  whose  master  was  awa)' 
near  Tours,  VwW  seized  the  valley  of  the  \'icnnc, 
retook    Montbazon    and    Langeais,    and    by    finally 


OLD   TOUR  A I XE 


capturiiis^  Chinon,  reduced  all  Touraine,  except  its 
capital,  Charactci'isticall}'  he  left  the  last  task  un- 
finished, went  suddenly  (for  the  fourth  time)  to 
Jerusalem,  and  died  on  his  way  home  near  Metz. 
Until  1/93  ^"'is  tomb  was  in  the  Abbey  of  ]?caulicu, 
and  can  still,  with  some  amount  of  ccrtaint}-,  be 
pointed  out.^ 

Geoffrey  Martel  seemed  to  have  inherited  his 
father's  warlike  capabilities.  He  signalised  his 
arrival  to  power  by  crushint:^  Aquitainc,  and  absorb- 
ing the  territory  of  Maine  after  the  taking  of  Lc 
Mans  :  the  possessions  of  Anjou  now  touched  the 
Norman  boundary.  Then,  taking  up  Fulk's  un- 
finished work  in  Touraine,  Geoffrey  seized  St.  Julien 
and  attacked  the  town  of  Tours,  which,  after  some 
severe  fighting,  he  finally  captured.  But  Touraine 
was  not  yet  to  be  Angevin,  and  the  conquest  of  Le 
Mans  now  began  to  bear  fruit.  In  1048  Duke 
William  of  Normandy  came  to  the  help  of  his 
suzerain  the  French  King  and  attacked  Maine  ;  but 
a  rapid  change  of  policy  followed  William's  too 
evident  and  increasing  power.  It  is  characteristic  of 
the  times  that  some  ten  years  after  we  find  King 
Ilcnry  at  Geoffrey's  palace  in  Angers  arranging  a 
combined  harrying  of  the  Duchy  of  Normandy. 
This  failed,  as  it  only  deserved  to  do,  and  within 
two  years  both  conspirators  were  dead. 

The    County    of   Anjou    now    enters    upon    the 

^  See  Salics,  Foiilqitcs  Nerra,  pp.  456  seq.  (ref.  quoted  by  Norgate). 


THE  COUNTS  OF  ANJOU 


saddest  portion  of  its  histon-,  the  times  of  the  Count 
Fulk  Rechin,  who  for  t\vcnty-eiy;ht  }-cars  kept  the 
riijhtful  heir,  Geoffrey,  imprisoned  in  the  dungeons 
of  Chinon,  until  the  wretched  captive  lost  all  longing 
for  liberty  or  crown.  Nor  were  other  signs  of  this 
shameful  period  any  more  encouraging.  The  onh' 
bright  spot  in  the  dark  reigns  of  Fulk  Rechin  and  of 
Philip  I.  is  the  life  of  Count  Elias  of  Maine,  who  for 
a  time  saved  Le  ]\Ians  from  Norman  rule.  But  with 
the  accession  of  Louis  VI.,  and  after  Henry  of 
England,  by  the  victory  of  Tinchebray,  had  made 
himself  master  of  Normandy,  better  days  dawned 
for  Anjou  with  the  marriage  of  the  new  Count 
Fulk  to  Aremburg  the  heiress  of  Maine,  The  next 
years  are  years  of  fighting  with  Normandy  and 
England,  which  resulted  in  impressing  the  English 
King  Henry  more  and  more  with  the  strength  and 
capacit}'  of  his  young  Angevin  rival.  At  last,  in 
I  1 19,  IMatilda  of  Anjou  was  married  to  William 
the  Aetheling,  heir  to  the  English  Crown,  to  whom 
Fulk  shortly  after  left  his  kingdom  before  going  to 
Jerusalem. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  The  youth  who  would 
have  inherited  an  undisputed  power  over  England, 
Normand)',  and  the  possessions  of  Anjou  was 
drowned  in  the  White  Ship  in  November  i  1 20. 
After  the  first  passion  of  his  grief  was  over,  IIem-\' 
at  once  took  new  measures  for  the  security  of  the 
succession    to   the    English    crown.       His    daughter 


OLD  TOURAINE 


^Matilda,  widow  of  the  l\mi:)cror  ]  Icnr\-  V.,  was 
acknowlcdi^cd  licircss  In-  the  asscnil)li'(l  l^n^iish 
barons,  and  sent  over  to  be  married  amidst  yreat 
rejoicings  to  Geoffrey  Plantagenct,  tiie  handsome 
son  of  Fulk,  Count  of  Anjou.  All  hope  for  the  new 
i^mpire  of  the  Angevins  now  rested  on  tlie  issue  of 
this  marriage,  and  Fulk,  feeling,  perhaps,  that  his 
day  was  over  and  his  work  in  Europe  done,  was 
given  the  cross  by  Archbishop  Hildebert  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Tours,  and  said  good  -  b}'e  to  his 
daughter,  the  widow  of  William  the  Aetheling,  who 
had  retired  to  the  Abbey  of  Fontevrault.  The  rest 
of  his  famil}-  met  him  for  the  last  time  in  the  same 
quiet  cloisters,  and  he  went  away  to  fight  the  Turks 
and  Saracens  as  King  of  Jerusalem. 

Geoffrey  Plantagenet,  who  took  his  name  from 
the  golden  broom  that  brightens  the  wide  fields  of 
Maine  and  Anjou,  was  of  "  a  fair  and  rudd\-  counte- 
nance, lit  up  by  the  lightning  glance  of  a  pair  of 
brilliant  eyes  ; "  his  broad  shoulders  and  strong 
frame  were  graceful  as  they  were  strong  and  active. 
Nor  were  his  intellectual  attainments  less  striking, 
in  a  time  of  almost  universal  ignorance  among  the 
fighting  barons.  Within  a  few  years  a  son  and 
heir  was  born  to  Matilda  at  Le  Mans,  the  future 
Henry  II.,  who  was  to  overshadow  even  his  father's 
strong  individualit}'.  Two  years  later  died  Ilcnry  I. 
The  old  quarrel  between  Anjou  and  Blois  arose 
again,  and  was  to  be  far  keener,  for  the  stake  was  a 


THE  COUNTS  OF  ANJOU  25 

much  greater  one.  Stephen,  Count  of  Boulogne, 
the  first  layman  in  England  after  the  King,  was  the 
third  son  of  Stephen,  Count  of  Blois,  by  his  wife, 
Adela,  daughter  of  the  Conqueror.  At  the  King's 
death  he  had  the  immense  advantage  of  being  on 
the  spot  almost  immediately  after,  though  such  a 
tempest  arose  at  his  crossing  from  Boulogne  as 
almost  rid  the  young  heir  in  Anjou  of  his  most 
dangerous  rival. 

But  at  first  the  outlook  seemed  black  indeed  for 
the  child  of  Geoffrey  and  ]\Iatilda.  England  they 
had  lost,  and  Normandy  was  gone  too  ;  yet  the 
Angevin  persistence  won  at  last,  helped  by  the  old 
unsteady  nature  traditional  in  the  house  of  Blois. 
In  I  1 39  Matilda  sailed  for  England  with  her  son, 
to  be  received  by  Robert  of  Gloucester.  Seven 
years  of  struggle  followed,  during  which  the  English 
Chronicle  gives  a  fearful  picture  of  the  sufferings  of 
the  land,  until,  in  1146,  Stephen  finally  freed  him- 
self from  opposition.  ^leanwhile  across  the  Channel 
Geoffrey  of  Anjou  had  taken  Normandy,  and  had 
been  recognised  its  duke  by  King  Louis  VI.  The 
young  Henry  was  then  called  back  to  be  gi\cn 
the  duchy  by  his  father,  who  died  in  1151.  As 
Duke  of  Normandy  and  Count  (.A  Anj<Hi  Henry 
married  Eleanor  of  Aquitaine  and  (iascony  (who 
had  just  been  divorced  from  the  ]-"rcnch  King), 
and  soon  prepared  to  make  good  his  claims  to 
England  against  the  house  of  Blois.      After  crushing 


26  OLD  TOURAINE 


at  Montsoreau  on  the  Loire  a  revolt  in  favour  of 
Eustace,  Stephen's  son,  which  had  been  joined  by 
his  own  brother  Geoffrey,  who  was  lord  of  Chinon, 
Loudun,  and  I\Iirebeau,  Henry  found  his  way  made 
clearer  by  the  death  of  Eustace  in  1153,  followed 
soon  afterwards  by  that  of  Stephen  :  in  December 
I  1 54,  on  the  Sunday  before  Christmas,  he  was 
crowned  as  King  Hcnr}-  II.  of  England  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  without  a  single  competitor,  and 
with  the  goodwill  of  high  and  low. 

IIcnr\'  Plantagcnct  had  "the  square  stout  form, 
fiery  face,  close -cropped  hair,  prominent  eyes,  bull 
neck,  coarse  and  strong  hands,  bowed  legs,  that 
marked  out  the  keen,  stirring,  coarse-fibred  man  of 
business,"  the  man  of  superhuman  activity,  abo\-e  all, 
whose  Court  was  to  be  a  very  pandemonium  of  energy. 
His  character  was  a  mystery  to  those  who  had  not 
known  Fulk  Nerra  and  the  strange  fascination  which 
the  clear-headed  Black  Count  combined  with  un- 
accountable variations  of  his  temperament  ;  and  the 
puzzled  courtiers  found  yet  another  character  to 
marvel  at  in  the  winning  personality  and  the 
courageous  spirit  of  Thomas  Beckct,  the  unclerical 
Chancellor.  While  these  two  worked  together  they 
were  the  best  of  friends  ;  and  when  their  interests 
clashed  their  hatred  was  the  keener.  In  i  158,  soon 
after  Henry  had  taken  Chinon  and  all  the  Angevin 
possessions  from  his  brother's  hands  into  his  own 
power,   a    gorgeous   embassy   arrived    with    Thomas 


THE  COUNTS  OF  A.V/OU  27 

Becket  at  its  head,  to  ask  the  hand  of  Margaret, 
daughter  of  the  King  of  France,  for  Henry's  eldest 
son.  Four  years  later  Becket  was  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  and  in  i  163  he  attended,  in  great  state, 
a  council  held  by  the  Pope  at  Tours. 

The  quarrel  with  King  Henry  had  begun.  .After 
a  vain  attempt  to  settle  it  by  the  famous  Constitu- 
tions of  Clarendon,  Thomas  Becket,  much  to  the 
delight  of  the  French  King,  was  soon  flying  for 
safety  to  a  Cistercian  abbey  in  Burgundy.  Mean- 
while King  Henry's  power  grew  and  strengthened 
on  both  sides  of  the  Channel.  In  France,  Brittany 
had  been  subdued  by  i  1 69,  and  the  southern  princes 
who  had  rebelled  after  the  conference  at  Chinon  were 
thoroughly  crushed  into  subjection.  In  the  next  \-ear 
Thomas  Becket,  who  had  been  reconciled  to  his  royal 
master  in  the  "  Traitor's  Meadow  "  on  the  borders  of 
Vendome  and  Chartres,  met  him  again  at  Tours  on 
his  way  towards  Amboisc  ;  it  was  at  Amboise  that 
in  Becket's  presence  Henry  wrote  to  his  son  to  enforce 
the  restoration  of  the  archiepiscopal  estates.  The\' 
met  once  more  at  Chaumont,  and  the  primate  then 
returned.  On  the  29th  of  December  in  the  same 
year  all  Furope  was  horrified  b}'  the  news  of 
the  Archbishop's  murder  before  the  shrine  of  St. 
Benedict  in  the  Cathedral  of  Canterbury.  The 
King's  trouble  at  this  cowardl)-  assassination  was 
sincere  enough,  and  was  soon  increased  b)'  signs 
of  thf   approaching  disturbances   in   his  own  Tamil)', 


2S  OLD  TOURAINE 


which  were  to  harass  his  Hfc  to  the  end  ;  but 
for  the  moment  they  ceased  ;  between  Tours  and 
Amboise  Henry  met  the  rebel  princes,  and  a_L,n'ced 
u]ion  a  general  amnesty. 

The  years  between  i  175  and  i  182  were  those  of 
the  greatest  prosperity  of  the  Angevin  l^npire  ;  in 
the  story  of  Chinon  wc  shall  trace  its  gradual  fall. 
These  years  of  peace  left  their  traces  throughout 
Anjou  and  Touraine  not  in  donjons  or  in  fortresses, 
but  in  palaces,  hospitals,  bridges,  and  embankments. 
A  round  tower,  which  stands  in  the  barrack-}-ard  at 
Tours,  is  the  sole  surviving  fragment  of  one  of 
Henry's  castles  built  about  this  time.  The  great 
dyke  along  the  Loire  from  Fonts  de  Ce,  just 
abo\-e  the  meeting  of  the  Mayenne  and  the  Loire, 
for  thirt}'  miles  eastwards  of  Bourgueil,  was  the  work 
of  Henry.  And  the  bridge  which  tradition  says  was 
built  across  the  Vienne  by  the  devil  for  Fulk  Nerra 
when  he  made  his  mar\-ellous  raid  upon  Saumur,  was 
in  reality  the  I'ont  de  I'Annonain,^  a  long  viaduct 
built  above  the  level  of  the  floods  across  river  and 
meadow  towards  Poitou,  to  make  a  safe  road  from 
Chinon,  Hcnr}-'s  favourite  home.^ 

^  By  some  authorities  called  the  "  Pont  aux  Nonnains. "  See  chap, 
on  Fontevrault. 

-  For  the  whole  period  of  this  chapter  see  the  History  of  K. 
Norgate. 


CIIAPTICR    III 


CIITXOX 


"Je  scay,"  repondit  Pantagruel,  "oii  est  Chinon  et  la  cave  peinle 
aussy,  j'y  ay  bu  niaints  verres  de  vin  frais  et  ne  fais  doute  aucun  que 
Chinon  ne  soil  villc  antique,  son  blason  I'atteste  auquel  est  dit  deux  ou 
trois  fois 

Chinon 
Petite  ville  grand  renom 
Assise  sus  pierre  anciennc 
Au  haul  le  bois  au  jiied  la  \'ienne. 
"Mais  conimcnt  seroit  elle  ville  premiere  du  nionde  ?  ou  le  trouvcz  vous 
par  ecrit  ?  quelle  conjecture  en  avez  ?  " 


Pantagruel  siv^- 
gestcd  that  the  deri- 
vation of  Chinon,  or 
Caynon,  as  he  scnnc- 
timcs  called  it,  was 
from  Cain  its  first  founder  ;  ^  but  the  stern  accm'acy 
of  later  philologists  w  ill  ha\c  it  that  "  Chinon  "  is 
derived  from  '■'■  blanc''  u\-  brilliant,  from  the  s])arkling 
waters  of  the  Vienne. 

'  See  Mabiile,  he.  (it.  'Die  old  name  of  Cliimin  \sas  Caino,  nf 
flallic  origin.  Professor  Khys  tells  me  liiat  in  N<irlh  Wales  lliere  is  a 
place  called  by  the  Celtic  name  of  Cain,  which  rnnies  fimi'  the  same 


OLD  TOURAINE 


In  the  course  of  our  journey  from  Tours,  where 
\vc  had  left  the  Loire  beliiiid  us  only  to  cross  the 
waters  of  the  Cher,  the  slowness  of  the  train  gave 
us  more  than  sufficient  time  to  thoroughly  grasp  the 
features  of  the  country,  to  fully  imbibe  what  lialzac 
calls  "  le  sentiment  du  beau  qui  rcsi)ire  dans  le 
paysage  de  Tours,"  where  "  in  spring  love  flics  at 
large  beneath  the  open  sky,  ...  in  autumn  the  air 
is  full  of  memories  of  those  who  are  no  more." 
Soon  we  passed  Ballan,  where  in  the  Chateau  dc 
la  Carte  lived  Jacques  de  Beaune  Semblancay,  the 
unfortunate  victim  of  the  anger  of  Louise  de  Saxoie  ; 
we  shall  hear  more  of  this  .shameful  transaction  later 
on.  Then  came  Mire  with  its  traditions  of  Cliarles 
]\Iartel  and  the  defeated  Saracens,  then  the  tliird 
river  on  our  route,  the  Indre,  whose  winding  channels 
reflect  the  sculptured  galleries  of  Azay-lc-Rideau. 
We  were  passing  through  the  countr\'  in  which 
Felix  found  his  "  Lys  dans  la  Vallee,"  passing  "  the 
long-drawn  ribbon  of  the  stream  that  sparkles  in 
the  sun  between  its  two  green  banks,  the  lines  of 
poplars  drajjing  with  the  flutter  of  tlicir  lace  this 
valley  of  the  Loire,  the  chestnut  trees  that  stand 
between  the  vineyards  on  the  sloping  hills."  With 
due  slowness  and  precision  our  train  at  last  stopped 
at  Chinon  on  the  banks  of  the  \'ienne.  The  first 
step  into  the  little   square   beyond   the   station   gates 

root  as  the  German  schun.     But  no  derivations  are  so  difticult  as  those 
of  Proper  Names. 


CHixoy  31 

showed  us  wc  had  had  the  happiness  to  arrive  on 
one  of  the  great  markct-da}-s  at  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber ;  we  found  afterwards  it  was  the  most  im])()rtant 
market  of  the  year. 

The  roads  were  closed  in  with  tall  trees  whose 
sides  were  cut  with  somewhat  frigid  exactitude  in 
lines  parallel  to  the  direction  of  the  pavement  ;  the\' 
were  full  of  country  girls  brown-cheeked  and  black- 
eyed,  arrayed  in  the  picturesque  lace  caps  of  their 
province  ;  booths  of  every  kind  were  full  of  busy 
traffic  ;  skeleton  men  and  fat  women  in  their  fullest 
glory  were  disputing  for  attention  with  tiny  travel- 
ling theatres  and  vendors  of  malodorous  refreshment. 
No  one  seemed  in  any  particular  hurry  to  do  any- 
thing ;  so,  imitating  the  frame  of  mind  of  the 
inhabitants,  we  aimlessly  strolled  up  the  long  straight 
road  towards  the  bridge  that  spans  the  reddish 
waters  of  the  river.  Here  the  press  grew  thicker, 
and  round  the  statue  of  Rabelais  was  a  gay 
crowd  of  bu)'ers  and  sellers,  of  laughing  girls  and 
chattering  children,  carts  and  clonkc}-s  laden  with 
country  produce,  geese  and  chickens  dead  and  alive, 
the  very  scene  of  busy  happiness  and  careless  liuinan 
nature  that  Rabelais  himself  enjoyed  and  described 
too,  when  he  tells  how  Couillatris  goes  t(^  Chinon, 
"ville  noble  ville  anticjue  v(j)'re  i)rcmicre  du  uKuule," 
to  buy  o.xen,  cows  and  sheep,  pigs,  capon,  geese, 
and  a  whole  catalogue  of  sound  comestibles.  The 
statue    is    a    far    finer     jjroduction     than     the     one 


OLD  TOURAINE 


at  Tours,  whose  face  with  its  eternal  smile  pleases 
perhaps  at  first  sight,  but  soon  degenerates  into  little 
more  than  simpering  monoton)-.  On  the  face  of  the 
Rabelais  of  Chinon  there  is  all  the  possibilit\-  of 
laughter,  as  there  is  the  possibility  of  satire  ;  and 
in  this  lies  the  superiorit}'  of  the  statue  :  U[)on  the 
mouth  of  the  true  Rabelais — the  mouth  of  a  cultivated 
Silenus — there  was  anything  rather  than  an  eternal 
smile,  though  none  of  his  time  knew  better  how  to 
lead  a  laugh  and  keep  it  going ;  upon  that  face 
there  must  have  been  the  traces  of  the  great  human 
feeling,  all  the  love  of  human  liberty  which  was 
Rabelais'  great  characteristic,  and  which  onh-  as- 
sumed the  cap  and  bells  of  Folly  to  secure  a  hearing 
or  to  be  sure  of  safet)'.  He  was  born  at  Chinon  in 
1490,^  just  about  the  time  when  "  le  pauvre  petit 
escolier,"  Francois  Villon,  must  have  finished  with 
the  world  and  its  troubles.      In  the  historian  of 

"  Le  Grand  Panurge  et  !e  pais 
Des  Papimanis  ebahis," 

the  force  and  individuality  of  the  earlier  poet  had 
become  the  Gallic  love  of  life,  of  health,  strength, 
and  splendour,  which  is  the  pre-eminent  characteristic 
of  Rabelais  as  it  is   of  Balzac.'      We  shall  hear  now 

^  Life,  by  >L  P.  Jannet.  CEiivres  Computes  de  Rabelais  (ed.  Jannet 
Picard).     Other  authorities  give  1483  ;  the  date  is  uncertain. 

-  The  best  portrait  of  Rabelais  I  have  seen  is  in  the  Bibhotheque 
Nationalc  at  Paris — a  cut  by  P.  Tauje,  1739.  Of  earlier  portraits  that  by 
N.  Habert,  1699,  is  best. 


CHIXON  33 

and  again  of  Rabelais  later  on,  until  Ronsard  sings 
his  epitaph  in  1553,  and  a  new  school  of  literature 
begins  very  foreign  in  its  methods  to  the  cultured 
strength  of  the  Cure  de  Meudon. 

The  statue  looks  towards  a  bus\-  little  square 
filled  with  a  throng  of  traffickers,  and  crowded  with 
gaily  decorated  booths  :  in  the  middle  played  the 
waters  of  a  fountain  circled  by  young  acacia  trees, 
and  in  their  shade  opened  the  inviting  portals  of  the 
Hotel  de  France.  Onh-  a  Yorkshireman  can  do 
justice  to  a  breakfast  in  Touraine  ;  in  Chinon  the 
traditions  of  Panurge's  friend,  the  famous  "  Innocent 
le  Patissier,"  are  evidently  still  kept  up.  We  did 
our  best,  and  were  soon  leisurely  ascending  the  hill 
abo\e  which  stretched  the  long  broken  line  of  the 
three  fortresses  whose  ruins  combine  to  form  the  relic 
of  feudal  strength  known  as  Chinon.  Arrived  on 
the  high  ground,  we  passed  beneath  an  iron  lantern 
swung  upon  a  rope  across  the  road,  and  felt  at 
once  that  we  had  left  modern  France  behind  us. 

In  front  was  the  gateway  of  the  castle  with  a 
mass  of  stone  towering  above  it,  crowned  b\'  a  belfry 
at  one  corner  with  its  aged,  battered  weathercock. 
Behind  stretched  the  garlanded  poles  <jf  countless 
vines  peacefully  growing  within  the  walls  of  what 
was  once  the  castle  of  the  Plantagenets  ;  to  our 
right  were  various  strange  habitations  scooped  in  the 
crumbled  earth  like  the  rock-duellings  on  the  road 
from  Tours  to  Rochecorbon — strange  ju-xlajjosilion 
V<H..   I  I) 


34  OLD  TOURAINE 


of  cavemen  to  feudal  chatelaines.  Like  Pantagruel, 
we  were  half  frii^htcncd  at  the  "  Caverne  dcs  Trog^- 
lodytes."  W'c  mii^ht  have  heard  the  baying  of  a 
Cerberus.  .  .  .  No  Bacbuc  was  there  to  throw  us 
into  a  poetic  frenzy,  but  the  stones  before  us, 
eloquent  in  their  ruin,  were  enough  to  rouse  the 
dullest  of  imaginations.  This  cliff  that  rises  steeply 
above  the  waters  of  the  Vienne  at  some  little 
distance  from  its  banks  was,  like  Amboise  and 
Langeais,  some  four  hundred  years  before  Christ,  the 
home  of  a  Celtic  tribe  who  drove  out  a  still  earlier 
race  ;  traces  of  these  latter  are  perhaps  to  be  found 
in  the  dolmen  of  great  stones  about  two  miles  to  the 
east  of  Chinon,  which  may  have  marked  the  burial- 
place  of  a  chief  In  the  writings  of  Gregory  of 
Tours  Chinon  is  described  as  a  "  castrum  " — the 
word  he  always  uses  for  a  Roman  fort,  and  the 
Romans  left  their  traces  here  as  they  have  done  in 
nearly  all  the  fortress  cliffs  which  dominate  the 
plains  and  rivers  of  Touraine  ;  Roman  funeral  urns 
and  the  remains  of  bodies  have  been  found  that  had 
been  burnt  zuit/tiii  the  ramparts,  for  the  Roman 
Empire  had  in  those  days  been  shaken  to  its  base 
by  barbarian  invasions  ;  the  Armorican  Republic  had 
just  been  joined  by  the  men  of  Tours  and  Anjou, 
for  whom  a  little  later  St.  INIexme  was  performing 
miracles  within  the  fort  to  keep  at  bay  the  forces  of 
Aegidius.  Soon  after  this  must  have  begun  to  grow 
that  mass  of  buildings  which  was   still  standing  in 


TOUR   DE   I.  HORLOGE   AND    BRIDGE    AT    THE   CHATEAU    OF   CHINON. 


CHINON  37 

1793,  and  whose  outlines  a  map  of  that  date  has  pre- 
served for  us.  The  oldest  remains  of  G alio- Roman 
building  are  the  enormous  squared  blocks  of  stone 
lying  in  the  shrubberies  a  little  farther  on  from 
the  entrance  and  rather  to  the  right,  A  sepulchral 
stone  (still  preserved  within  the  chateau)  was  found 
among  these  remains  of  masonry,  representing  a 
man  upright  in  a  large  tunic  with  wide  sleeves  ; 
above  it  is  the  crescent-shaped  sign  so  often  found 
in  monuments  of  this  period. 

Looking  upwards  at  the  whole  line  of  buildings 
from  the  town,  the  arrangement  of  the  three  castles 
becomes  apparent.  Farthest  to  the  right  stood  the 
castle  and  chapel  of  St.  George,  built  by  the  Plan- 
tagenet  kings  to  protect  the  one  weak  point  in  a 
position  of  almost  unique  strength  and  safety,  the 
tongue  of  land  to  the  east  which  unites  the  pro- 
montory on  which  the  fortress  rests  to  the  line 
of  hills  beyond  it.  Joining  these  buildings,  now 
levelled  to  the  ground,  to  the  Chateau  du  Milieu,  is 
a  fine  stone  bridge  on  bold  archways  with  carved 
balustrades  that  leads  to  the  drawbridge  of  the 
entrance  beneath  the  Tour  de  I'Horloge.  The 
little  guardian  in  jjctticoats  who  replies  to  the 
traveller's  summons  for  admission  still  hears  him, 
and  still  answers  his  request,  ihroui;!!  the  narrow 
slit  cut  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall  that  commum- 
catcs  with  the  room  in  which  the  soldiers  used  to 
work  the  portcullis.      Following  the  wall  on   the  left 


8  5  0  0  2 


OLD   TOl-RAIXE 


\vc  come  to  the  first  ran^c  of  rooms,  the  suite  of 
ro\-al  apartments  opcniiiL^j  out  hcliind  tlie  \\v^\  wall 
with  the  remains  of  chimneys  at  its  various  stages, 
which  is  all  that  is  left  of  the  j^rcat  hall  (on  the 
first  floor)  where  Jeanne  d'Arc  first  met  the  King. 
Immediately  behind  this  is  the  guardroom  and 
armoury,  next  comes  the  kitchen,  then  the  common 
living-room,  whose  windows  are  furnished  with  low 
stone  seats  on  which  to  sit  and  watch  the  curve  of 
the  Vienne  as  it  flows  towards  the  Loire.  h>om 
the  next  room,  which  has  a  small  square  bakehouse 
by  its  side,  descends  a  strange  little  flight  of  steps 
through  a  narrow  passage  cut  in  the  rock  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  moat. 

This  moat  is  crossed  by  a  stone  bridge,  which, 
like  the  longer  one  at  the  entrance,  replaced  the  old 
wooden  structure  about  the  sixteenth  century.  It 
is  defended  by  two  towers  ;  from  that  on  the  left, 
built  in  the  thirteenth  century,  perhaps  the  best 
view  of  the  whole  castle  is  to  be  obtained,  while 
the  full  sweep  of  the  ri\-er  below  is  seen  at  its  finest. 
The  tower  on  the  right  is  of  the  same  epoch,  and 
contains  some  of  the  best  masonry  in  Chinon  ;  it 
was  the  old  donjon  of  the  castle,  and  its  strong 
foundations  plunge  down  into  the  moat  beneath  in 
one  bold  line  of  massive  buttress.  Within  is  a 
range  of  prisons,  vault  below  vault,  to  the  lowest 
level  reached.  We  are  now  within  the  Fort  du 
Coudray,  the  last  of  the  three  castles,  at  the  extreme 


CHINON  39 

western  edge  of  the  cliff;  its  chief  feature  is  the  fine 
Tour  du  Moulin,  where  the  mill  of  the  fortress  once 
stood,  whose  pointed  leaden  roof  and  widespread 
sails  must  have  been  a  strange  feature  in  the  old 
castle.  Along  the  wall  of  which  this  tower  forms 
the  western  corner  arc  the  oldest  relics  of  the  twelfth- 
century  buildings. 

Chinon  more  than  all  other  places  in  this  part 
of  the  country  leaves  an  impression  of  antiquit)^  far 
greater  than  that  of  its  neighbours  ;  it  is  easy  to 
people  Blois  with  the  gallants  of  Henry  III.'s  Court, 
or  the  intrigues  of  Louis  XIV.  ;  Chenonceaux  tells 
its  own  light,  uneventful  stor\-  in  every  ripple  of 
reflected  sunbeam  upon  its  graceful  windows  ;  but 
Chinon,  greater  in  extent  than  all  of  them,  a  very 
wilderness  of  towers  and  battlements — Chinon  is  in 
ruins  irretrievably.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  move- 
ments to  which  its  walls  gave  birth  were  too  weighty 
for  the  nurse  that  bore  them,  and  the  mother  of  so 
many  royal  fortunes  has  not  had  strength  to  live  to 
sec  the  fulness  of  their  destiny.  The  history  of  the 
Plantagenets  of  Chinon  has  passed  on  to  the  walls 
of  Windsor. 

The  dense  woodland  of  larches,  oaks,  and  firs 
which  stretches  to  the  north-east,  almost  to  the 
valley  of  the  Indrc,  was  no  doubt  one  of  the  attrac- 
tions of  Chinon  to  Fulk  Ncrra  and  to  the  greatest 
of  his  descendants,  Ilcnry  II.  of  iMigland  and 
Anjou,  whose  favf>uritc  home  in  hVance  was  licrc.     it 


40  OLD  TOURAINE 


remains  for  us  to  complete  the  stor\-  of  the  .An^^cvin 
kings  which  was  traced  up  to  the  liighest  point  of 
their  prosperity.  A  great  cliange  is  now  to  come. 
With  the  death  of  "the  }-oung  King,"  his  son  Henr)', 
in  I  I  83,  discord  at  once  broke  out  between  Richard, 
Geoffre\-,  and  John,  the  other  three  sons  ;  a  further 
element  of  complication  was  introduced  by  the 
death  of  Geoffrey  of  Brittany,  whose  son  Arthur 
was  ahnost  immediatel)-  claimed  by  the  French 
King  as  his  ward.  The  confusion  had  reached 
such  a  pitch  that  Richard  had  seized  his  father's 
treasury  at  Chinon,  when  news  came  of  the  great 
Saracen  victor}-  over  Gu}-  of  Lusignan,  which  gave 
Jerusalem  itself  into  the  hands  of  the  Infidels, 
ancl  Richard  took  the  cross  from  the  Archbishop  of 
Tours. 

The  would-be  Crusaders  began  operations  against 
the  Infidel  by  quarrelling  among  themselves  at 
home ;  amidst  a  general  disorder  Richard  joined 
Philip  of  France  against  his  father,  and  Henry  II., 
hot!}'  besieged  within  Le  Mans,  liad  but  just  time  to 
escape  from  the  flaming  town  towards  the  Norman 
frontier.  Suddenly  changing  his  direction,  in  a  ride 
that  equalled  the  legendary  rush  of  the  Black  Falcon 
on  Saumur,  the  King  spurred  frenziedly  back  to 
Chinon,  while  his  attendant  knights  fainted  or  died 
from  fatigue  and  wounds  upon  the  wa\-.  Then 
Philip  advanced  by  Chaumont  and  Amboise  as  far 
as  Rochecorbon,  and  proposed   a  meeting  at  Azaj'  ; 


CHIXOX 


41 


but  the  devil  which  had  helped  Fulk  Nerra  011  his 
ride  had  entered  into  Henry  after  his  escape  from 
Maine,  a  devil  of  despair  and  pain  that  racked  his 
peace  of  mind  while  it  tortured  his  body  with  a 
fever.  Tours  fell  to  the  French  King-,  and  Henry 
was  unable  to  move  from  his  room.  Then  he  was 
summoned  again  to  meet  Philip  at  Colombieres 
between  Azay  and  Tours.  By  a  great  effort  Henry 
started  from  Chinon,  and  rested  on  his  way  at  the 
Commanderie  of  the  Knights  Templars  at  Ballan  ; 
there,  leaning  for  support  in  his  extreme  anguish 
against  a  wall,  he  was  persuaded  to  rest  for  a  while 
by  William  the  ^Marshal.  The  meeting  was  for  the 
next  day,  and  neither  his  own  son  nor  the  French 
King  would  put  it  off.  On  that  July  morning  two 
great  shocks  of  thunder  from  a  clear  sky  put  the 
finishing  touch  to  the  collapse  of  the  poor  King, 
who  was  obliged  to  be  held  fainting  upon  his  horse 
— he  signed  a  humiliating  peace. 

On  his  return  to  Chinon  he  had  just  .strength  left 
to  soundly  rate  the  monks  of  Canterbur\',  who  had 
come  at  this  inopportune  moment  to  present  their 
demands  ;  one  of  them,  as  he  went  out,  cur.scd  him 
by  the  memory  of  the  murdered  Becket.  That 
night  his  Chancellor  was  reading  to  him  the  list  of 
the  rebels.  "  Sire,"  said  he,  "  may  Jesus  Christ  help 
me  !  the  first  name  which  is  written  here  is  the  name 
of  Count  John,  your  .son."  Then  Henry  turned  his 
face  to  the  wall,  caring  no  more  for  himself  or  for  the 


42  OLD  TOURAINE 


workl.  I'^or  some  (la}-s  he  la}-  half  unconscious, 
niuttcrini;-,  "  Shame,  shame  on  a  conquered  King." 
At  last  he  was  carried  out  to  die  before  the  altar  of 
the  castle  chapel.  The  servants  stripped  his  body  and 
laid  it  naked  on  the  ground  to  be  covered  by  a  cloak 
borrowed  from  William  de  Trihan.  The  last  rites 
were  with  difficulty  arranged  by  William  the  Marshal. 
"  Robed  as  for  coronation,  with  a  crown  of  gold 
upon  his  head,  a  gold  ring  upon  his  finger,  sandals 
upon  his  feet,  and  a  sceptre  in  his  glo\-cd  right  hand," 
he  was  borne  across  the  bridge  that  he  had  built  to 
be  laid  in  state  in  the  Abbey  Church  of  Fontevrault  ; 
thither  came  his  unworthy  son  Richard  to  see  the 
body,  which  streamed  with  blood,  it  is  said,  as  he 
approached  it.  Henry  was  buried  before  the  high 
altar  by  Bartholomew  the  Archbishop  of  Tours,  in 
July  I  I  89. 

Three  years  afterwards  Philip  of  France,  returned 
from  the  Crusades,  was  ravaging  Anjou.  The  attacks 
on  the  foreign  dominions  of  England  which  had 
been  prompted  by  the  news  of  Richard's  imprison- 
ment ceased  for  the  moment  when  he  was  released. 
But  in  1 193  the  attacks  upon  Touraine  had  become 
so  fierce  and  systematic  that  Richard  left  England 
never  to  return,  and  made  direct  for  Tours,  where  he 
drove  out  the  canons  of  St.  Martin  as  being  friends 
of  the  French  King.  He  then  blockaded  Loches 
and  took  it,  turned  on  Blois,  and  surprised  so  many 
valuable  papers  and  cases  that  Philip  was  obliged 


c/nxo.v  43 

to  make  a  truce ;  finally,  where  the  Seine  bends 
suddenly  to  the  north,  Richard  built  his  famous 
Chateau  Gaillard  with  its  three  lines  of  defence  very 
much  like  the  walls  of  Chinon.  The  fame  of  the 
Lionheart,  which  gains  little  from  his  doings  in 
French  territor}*,  is  still  less  increased  by  the  story 
of  his  death.  In  1 199,  being  very  much  pressed  by 
want  of  money,  he  suddenly  heard  that  a  treasure 
had  been  discovered  at  Chalus,  and  claimed  it  as  the 
overlord.  In  attempting  to  take  the  castle  he  was 
shot,  and  died  from  the  mortification  of  the  wound. ^ 
John,  who  had  been  appointed  as  his  brother's 
heir,  hurried  to  Chinon  and  was  acknowledged  King 
by  the  ro}'al  household.  But  a  counter-claimant 
appeared  in  Arthur  of  Bretagne,  who  was  at  Tours 
with  his  mother,  Constance,  supported  by  the  King  of 
France  and  the  adherence  of  the  barons  of  Touraine. 
To  attempt  to  foil  Constance,  Eleanor  came  out 
from  Fontevrault  and  took  up  her  son  John's  cause. 
A  peace  was  patched  up  by  the  Dauphin's  marriage 
with  Blanche,  niece  of  the  English  King.  In  the 
next  year  John,  having  put  away  his  first  wife  A\-ice 
of  Gloucester,  scandalised  the  barons  by  his  marriage 
with  Isabel,  the  daughter  of  the  Count  of  Angoulcme, 
and  spent  the  ne.xt  suinmer  at  Chinon  with  her  and 
Bcrengaria  the  widow  of  his  brother  Kichard. 

'  In  the  Chroniijiics  de  Normatidii,,  .-i  M.S.  of  the  (iftcL-nth  century, 
there  is  a  str.nnj;e  |)icture  of  the  storming  of  Chalus,  showing  KiclLird's 
wound  in  the  shoulder. 


44  OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


Disconlciit  L;rcw  more  and  more  throughout  the 
provinces.  Ah-eacl\-  had  John  been  sentenced  by 
default  to  lose  his  lands  and  fiefs,  when  Philip  in 
120  1  attacked  Arqucs  while  Arthur  of  lirittany 
besieged  Tours,  where  his  small  band  of  knights  was 
reinforced  by  Hugh  de  la  Marchc  (the  bridegroom 
John  had  first  insulted)  and  by  Geoffrey  of  Lusignan, 
an  inveterate  foe  of  the  Plantagcnets.  The  next 
move  was  to  the  siege  of  Mirebeau,  whither  John's 
mother  Eleanor  had  gone  after  her  second  retreat 
to  Fontevrault.  Arthur  was  taken  prisoner  by  the 
relieving  forces  which  John  brought  up,  sent  to 
Falaise,  and  was  no  more  heard  of  This  was  a 
fatal  mistake,  for  it  drove  John's  rebellious  subjects 
to  choose  between  him  and  Philip.  Their  choice 
was  soon  made.  By  spring  of  the  next  year 
the  taking  of  the  Chateau  Gaillard  drove  the 
English  from  all  French  lands  north  of  the  Loire  ; 
on  Midsummer  Eve,  1205,  after  a  long  and 
desperate  siege,  Chinon  was  taken  too,  and  by  the 
beginning  of  1206  the  English  were  finall}- dri\en 
out  of  France. 

In  the  thirteenth  century  there  was  not  much  of 
importance  that  happened  at  Chinon.  The  French 
monarchy,  so  much  enlarged  and  strengthened  b\- 
Philip  Augustus,  was  still  further  expanded  b\'  the 
religion  and  the  higher  life  of  St.  Louis,  "  the  most 
loyal  man  of  his  age,"  whom  Charles  VUL  and  all 
France  of  the  time  looked  back  upon  as  their  patron 


CHINON  45 

saint,   and    with    whom   died   the  last   spark  of  the 
crusading  spirit. 

In  1309  occurred  one  of  the  few  notable  events 
of  the  next  century  at  Chinon,  the  examination 
of  Jacques  IMolay,  Grand  INIastcr  of  the  Knights 
Templars,  by  the  Pope's  cardinals  in  state  assembled. 
The  order  of  the  Templars  had  been  founded 
nearly  two  hundred  years  before  by  nine  knights 
who  defended  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  Growing  in 
wealth  and  strength,  the  Knights  had  left  Palestine 
and  built  their  Temple  opposite  the  Louvre  in  Paris. 
Strange  rumours  of  the  wealth  and  wickedness  of 
this  secret  society  were  rife  throughout  France,,  and 
sudden!}-  tlie  King  seized  every  member  of  it  ;•  the 
"  Proces  des  Templiers  "  ^  gives  some  horrible  details 
of  their  trial  and  examination.      Meanwhile  the  Pope, 

'  In  the  cullcclion  of  Docuiiuiits  iiicdits  stir  Chistoire  dc  F)-ance. 
See  also  Rci'tie  des  deux  Mondes,  I5lh  Jan.  1S91,  "  Le  Proces  des  Temp- 
liers d'apres  des  documents  nouveaux,"  Ch.  V.  Langlois;  and  L.  Delisle, 
Mctnoires  stir  /es  operations  financiires  des  Templiers.  The  Knights 
Templars  so  unrighteously  condemned  si.x  centuries  ago  have  only  (juite 
lately  received  the  justice  due  to  them;  the  verdict  of  Michelet  must 
l>c  reversed  in  the  face  of  the  later  facts  forthcoming.  It  seems  clear 
that  the  chief,  if  not  the  only  reason  for  the  summary  destruction  of  the 
order  was  to  be  found  in  the  rapacity  and  indebtedness  of  the  King. 
Krom  the  acknowledged  safety  of  their  fortresses  in  Europe  it  had 
resulted  that  the  Templars  became  the  bankers  of  the  warriors  and 
prelates  of  the  troublous  times  of  the  Crusades.  The  wide  extent  of 
their  connections  enabled  them  to  begin  operations  of  the  highest  value 
with  the  Jews  and  Lrjmbards,  and  their  inevitaijle  rise  in  power  and 
imjKjrtance  was  the  beginning  of  their  unpopularity.  The  King  who 
hunted  them  down  was  also  their  heaviest  creditor.  The  only  testi- 
mony-ftgainst  them  was  the  confessions  wrung  from  the  anguish  of  the 
i-rivmL-r,  by  the  torture  to  which  they  were  mercilessly  condemned. 


46  OLD  TOUR  A  IN E 


wlio  was  in  "  l>al)_\'lonish  captivit)'  "  at  Avit^non,  was 
made  to  dissolve  their  order,  main-  Templars  (includ- 
ing the  Grand  Master)  were  burnt  in  Paris,  and  almost 
the  onl\-  remnant  of  their  existence  left  in  France  is 
the  name  of  "  Commanderie,"  which  still  clings,  as  at 
Ballan,  to  the  places  where  once  a  house  of  the 
famous  order  used  to  stand.  This  particular  Com- 
manderie, whose  graceful  modern  rooms  are  grouped 
round  the  little  library  with  its  carved  ceiling,  which 
is  the  last  relic  of  the  Templars,  was  inhabited  even 
down  to  1790  by  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  who  suc- 
ceeded the  old  order. 

In  1337  began  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  the 
struggle  between  France  and  England  for  the 
ma.stery  which  began  with  the  crushing  defeats  of 
Crecy  and  Poitiers.  Then  came  the  period  of  Du 
Guesclin's  victories  over  the  English  from  1360  to 
1380;  but  thc\'  were  nullified  by  weakness  and 
dissension  which  ended  in  the  catastrophe  of 
Agincourt.  The  fortunes  of  P^-ance  were  indeed  at 
a  low  ebb  ;  it  is  from  Chinon  that  the  first  ray  of 
hope  appears  ;  the  short  visit  of  Joan  of  Arc,  the 
beginning  of  that  romantic  and  inexplicable  episode 
of  which  she  is  the  heroine,  is  the  salient  point 
among  all  the  traditions  of  the  castle.  The 
years  that  immediateh-  followed  Agincourt  were 
terrible  years  for  P^-ance.  The  Dukes  of  Bour- 
bon and  Orleans,  fighting  in  the  front  rank,  had 
been  taken  prisoner,  and  the  power  of  the  Armagnac 


CHIXON  47 

party  was  still  further  weakened  by  the  alliance  of 
the  Queen  (who  had  been  exiled  to  Tours  for  her 
misconduct)  with  the  Burgundian  party.  The  mas- 
sacres in  Paris  which  followed  resulted  in  the  death 
of  some  two  thousand  of  the  Armagnacs,  and  the 
Dauphin  himself  hardly  escaped  with  life.  The  so- 
called  "  Cabochiens "  were  filling  Paris  with  blood- 
shed and  disorder.^  Soon  after  the  death  of  Henry 
of  England  the  poor  French  King  ceased  the  mocker}' 
of  life  that  still  remained  to  him  ;  the  touching 
attachment  of  his  people  to  this  crazed  monarch 
would  alone  show  how  oppressive  was  the  rule  of 
the  princes  who  were  now  in  power.  In  1422  the 
Dauphin  assumed  his  ro}-al  robes  as  Charles  \TI. 
in  Berri,  while  Bedford  and  his  Englishmen  in  Paris 
were  shouting  "  Long  live  the  King  of  France  and 
England  "  round  the  little  son  of  Henry  V. 

The  English  had  run  a  wedge  into  the  very  heart 
of  France  from  the  sea -coast  to  Paris,  and  to  this 
laz)-,  kindly,  good-looking  Charles  VH.  was  left  the 
task  of  turning  them  out.  His  defeats  at  the  ver\' 
outset  were  so  numerous  that  he  was  nicknamed 
"  Le  Roi  de  Bourges  : "  the  misery  of  P'rance  went 
on  unabated."     The  state  of  the  people  at  this  time 

'  Monstrelet  relates  the  entry  of  the  Burgiintliaiis  into  Paris  on  2Sth 
May  141 8,  and  the  Journal  of  the  Bourgeois  de  Paris  gives  terriMe 
details  of  the  scenes  in  the  streets  during  the  continual  massacres  that 
went  on.  He  describes  especially  the  horrors  of  .Sunday,  29th  May,  in 
that  year,  when  the  dead  "  etaicnt  en  tas  comme  pores  au  milieu  de  la 
boue,"  Ijcncath  the  splashing  <»f  the  ceaseless  raindrops. 

'  The  GrauJes  Chroitiques  give  a  fearful  picture  nf  these  miseries. 


48  OLD   -J'OURAINE 


was  frightful  ;  wolves  were  fightinr^  for  the  corpses 
of  the  (.lead  in  the  church}-ards  of  I'aris,  churches 
were  sacked,  castles  burnt  to  the  ground,  the  lands 
left  untilled,  a  hideous  "  dansc  Macabre  "  among  the 
tombs  came  into  fashion,  wild  rumours  of  portents 
and  j)rodigies  were  in  the  air.  At  last  in  1423  the 
King  came  to  Chinon  with  the  Queen  of  Sicily  and 
the  Due  d'Alencon  to  assemble  the  States-General, 
to  deliberate  with  his  small  Court  over  the  small  part 
of  France  that  had  been  left  him  by  the  l^nglish, 
and  to  receive  the  Count  of  Richemont,  Arthur  of 
Bretagne,  who  had  offered  his  services  against  the 
enemy. 

The  evil  inilucnces  of  La  Tremouillc  and  the 
anti-nationalist  party  had  already  begun  to  be  felt 
in  this  as  in  other  matters  about  the  Court,  when  in 
1428  letters  came  from  Tours  praying  for  help 
against  the  English  at  Orleans,  the  northerninost 
point  of  the  Loire  and  the  key  to  Southern  P^rance, 
which  was  besieged  by  Bedford. 

The  Court  was  full  of  bickerings  and  jealousies, 
and   the   treasury   was   cmpt}',  but  the   States   voted 

In  eighteen  months  more  than  1500  men  had  died  in  Paris.  Some 
monks  of  St.  Denis,  seeing  men  and  women  dancing  to  the  sound  of 
music  in  a  certain  town,  asked  why  they  did  so.  "  Nous  avons  vu  nos 
voisins  morts,  et  les  voyons  de  jour  en  jour  mourir,"  and  they  danced 
for  joy  that  their  time  had  not  yet  come.  Tiiat  evening  the  greater 
part  were  dead  or  dying.  The  actual  horrors  of  the  time  were  reflected 
in  a  corruption  of  morality  and  dissoluteness  of  manners  which  gave  thj 
graver  chroniclers  small  cause  to  wonder  that  God  was  chastening  France 
by  means  of  his  scourge  the  King  of  England. 


C///XON  49 

subsidies,  and  in  the  next  year  help  came  from 
unexpected  quarters.  The  King  was  in  fact  \-ery 
little  worthy  of  the  \eneratit>n  b\-  which  that  help 
was  inspired,  when  in  the  midst  of  the  intrigue  and 
idleness  of  his  Court  appeared  the  strange  figure 
of  the  peasant  girl  from  Domrem}-. 


vol..  I 


ciiai*ti:r   IV 

C H 1 N  ON   ( Continued) 

"  La  Roync  Blanche  commc  \\\v^  lys 
(Jui  clianloit  a  voix  de  sereinc, 
]>eilhe  au  grand  pied,  Biclris,  Allys  ; 
Ilaiembourges,  cjui  tint  le  Mayne, 
Et  Jchanne  la  bonne  Lorraine 
Qu'  Anglois  bruslcrent  a  Rouen  ; 
Oil  sont-ilz,  Vierge  Souveraine  ? 

Mais  oil  sent  Ics  neiges  d'antan?" — Vili.on. 


On    Sunday,  6lh    March    1429,   Jeanne   d'Arc   came 
to   Chinon,   and    the    well    is    still 
"^       shown  where  she   alighted    off  her 
■5."?  horse,     and      the     house     of     the 
"  bonne    femme "'     who     sheltered 
her.      Once  within  the  chateau  she 
was    lodged    within    the    Tour    du 
Coudra}'    until    the    }-oung     King 
should  find   time  to   rouse    himself 
\  -s  from    the    caresses    of    .\lo\-se    de 
p  I    Castelnau    and    give    audience   to 
K  -•   the   peasant  girl  about  whom  his 
i       courtiers  were  alread\'  disputing. 

The   introduction   to   the  ro}-al 
presence,    hard     enough     already    for    Jeanne,    was 


2  -• 


CHINON  (Co?iiifiitei/)  51 

made  still  harder  by  the  indifference  of  that  King 
who  had  been  the  ideal  of  her  dreams,  by  the 
studied  insolence  and  opposition  of  his  counsellors, 
and  by  the  whisperings  of  a  licentious  Court.  She 
needed  all  her  courage  to  support  the  cold  and 
cynical  reception  which  was  all  she  found  in  return 
for  enthusiasm  and  offers  of  victory  ;  and  the  Chapel 
of  St.  ]\Iartin  in  the  castle  precincts  must  have 
witnessed  no  slight  struggle  between  her  reluctance 
to  go  forward  and  her  eagerness  to  fulfil  her  destin}-. 
Tiie  contemptuous  trial  of  her  powers  made  by 
the  King  at  her  very  first  appearance,  the  examina- 
tions and  tests  which  she  was  afterwards  to  undergo, 
the  numberless  perils  of  her  position,  all  must  have 
combined  to  make  her  self- sought  trial  wellnigh 
harder  than  she  could  bear.  But  "  aide  toi  et  le  ciel 
t'aidera  "  was  her  unfiinching  motto,  and  to  the  taunt- 
ing questions  of  the  officers  she  would  only  answer, 
"  Les  hommes  d'armes  bataillcront  et  Dicu  donncra  la 
victoire."  Of  her  personal  appearance  scarcely  a 
word  has  come  down  to  us  ;  that  she  had  long  black 
hair,  that  after  a  little  practice  she  could  sit  a  horse 
in  full  armour  as  bravely  as  the  rest,  that  her  chief 
charm  lay  in  the  firm  accents  of  her  soft  low  voice, 
such  are  almost  the  only  hints  we  have  of  the  per- 
sonality of  Jeanne  d'Arc' 

'  See  in  Beaucourt,  Hist,  de  Charles  I'll.  vol.  ii.  |>.  21S,  "  Lilt  re- 
de Guy  et  <r Andre  dc  I^val  aux  dames  dc  Lnvalc."  "  Ladilc  ruccllc 
mc  fil  Ires  Ixjh  visage  i  mon  fri.re  et  a  inoi.  Kile  elail  arinue  dc  tmites 
pieces,  sauf  la  tele,  et  teiiait  sa  lance  en  mains  .    .   .   tile  fit   vciiir  dii 


52  OLD   TOURAINK 


Whatever  ma}-  have  actually  happened  during 
the  pcritjd  of  uncertaint}-  and  doubt  while  she  was 
kept  within  the  castle,  sonie  weeks  later  she  left 
Chinon  for  Tours  clad  in  complete  armour  with  her 
followers  beside  her,  and  encouraged  at  last  by  the 
full  confidence  of  the  Kinc;-.'  It  docs  not  belong  to 
the  story  of  Chinon  to  describe  how  she  left  Tours 
for  IMois  anci  so  to  Orleans,  where  she  conquered 
the  enemy  as  she  had  promised  ;  how  she  led  the 
King  to  his  coronation  at  Rheims  ;  how  later  on  she 
fell  by  treacher}-,  the  onl)-  foe  she  ever  feared,  into 
English  hands,  and  was  burnt  at  the  stake  in  the 
market-place  of  Rouen. 

There  is  no  fact  more  astonishing  in  history  and 
none  better  established  than  this  episode  of  Joan 
of  Arc."  She  was  not  believed  in  by  many  of  those 
in  power  in  her  time,  a  time  which  was  still  strongly 
imbued  with  the  principles  of  feudalism  and  keenly 
suspicious  of  movements  in  a  new   direction  ;   in    her 

vin  et  me  dit  qu'elle  m'en  ferait  bientot  Loire  a  Paris.  Ce  semble 
chose  toute  divine  de  son  fait,  de  la  voir  et  de  I'ouir.  .  .  .  Puis  se 
tournant  sur  la  porte  de  I'eglise,  qui  etait  bien  prochc,  ellc  dit  d'une 
assez  douce  voix  de  fenime  :  '  Vous,  les  prClres  et  gens  d'Eglise,  faites 
processions  et  prieres  a  Dieu. 

At  Orleans  there  is  some  early  fifteenth-century  German  tapestry 
showing  the  entry  of  Jeanne  d'Arc  into  Chinon.  The  castle  is  an 
impossibility  of  needlework,  but  the  Maid  herself  is  represented  much  as 
she  is  described  by  the  letters  of  the  Lavals. 

1  See  Monstrelet,  Cln-oniqites,  II.  Ivii. 

-  Quichcrat's  five  volumes,  which  contain  both  the  "  proces  de  con- 
damnation,"  and  the  "proces  de  rehabilitation"  which  somewhat  tardily 
followed  it,  present  the  best  contemporary  authorities  for  the  facts. 


CH/NcXV  {Continued)  53 

were  personified  ideas  pre-eminently  in  advance  of 
her  age  ;  that  intense  "  amour  de  Patrie,"  which 
becomes  a  worship  of  the  idea  of  Nationality,  was 
as  foreign  to  feudal  society  as  was  the  doctrine  of 
liberty  of  conscience  ;  both  of  these  ideas  were 
expressed  in  the  movement  led  by  the  peasant  girl, 
and  both  arc  arguments  as  strongly  favourable  in  a 
later  democratic  society  as  they  were  prejudicial  to 
her  in  the  aristocracy  of  Church  and  State  in  her 
own  time.  "  II  y  a  es  livres  de  nostre  Seigneur  plus 
que  es  vostres,"  she  saj's  in  the  examination  before 
the  ecclesiastics  ordered  by  the  King,  and  the 
bishops  found  indeed  that  there  were  more  things 
in  heaven  and  earth  than  had  been  dreamt  of  in 
their  phiiosoph)'. 

If  there  is  anything  more  strange  than  the 
silence  of  France  while  her  heroine  was  being  tried 
by  unjust  judges  and  cruelly  done  to  death,  it 
is  the  almost  complete  silence,  either  for  praise  or 
blame,^  which  for  a  long  time  follows  the  burning  of 
the  Maid  at  Rouen  ;  but  of  later  years  all  France 
seems  to  have  suddenly  waxed  enthusiastic  over  this 
episode  in  her  histor)'  ;  statues,  dramas,  poems  ha\-e 
followed  one  another  in  quick  succession  ;  it  needed 
the  Revolution  and  the  rise  of  the  people  to  exalt 
the    shepherdess    into    a   national    saint.      "  I    never 

'  If  we  except  the  "  proces  dc  r^-habilitalion,"  and  Le  Misth-e 
(ill  Siige  if  Orleans  (produced  in  1467),  which  ends  before  her  death, 
wc  can  find  nothing  wfirth  the  writing  about  Jeanne  d'Arc  till  far  later 
times. 


54  OLD   rOL'RAINE 


committed  the  crime,"  says  Southey,  "  of  reading 
\'oltairc's  La  Pnccllc"  and  \vc  recommend  our 
readers  to  follow  the  lui_i;lish  poet's  example  ;  llie 
untrue  picture  given  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  by 
Shakespeare  becomes  in  the  later  work  a  C}-nically 
false  and  distorted  libel.  M.  Joseph  Fabre,  whose 
enthusiastic  work  is  one  of  the  most  conscientious 
monographs  existing  on  this  subject,  draws  out  a 
strange  parallel  between  Joan  of  Arc  and  Socrates 
with  regard  to  the  visions  and  voices  which  the 
shepherdess  constanth*  affirmed  had  been  vouchsafed 
to  her.  The  results  of  later  investigations  go  to 
show  that  at  the  time  of  Jeanne's  visions,  St. 
Michael,  on  whose  assistance  she  lays  especial  stress, 
was  particular!}'  in  the  minds  of  all  devout  I'rench- 
men.  The  hated  English  had  just  received  a 
decisive  check  among  the  swirling  tides  and 
treacherous  quicksands  of  the  rock  of  IMont  St. 
Michel,  on  the  northern  coasts  ;  the  patron  saint  of 
that  strange  island  fortress  seemed  to  have  already 
begun  his  defence  of  French  territor}-. 

But  such  supernatural  problems  are  too  wide  for 
us  ;  more  interesting  is  it  to  trace  the  gradual 
rehabilitation  of  Joan  of  Arc  in  the  good  opinion  of 
the  English,  her  first  and  unfair  judges.^  In  that 
opinion  she  passed  through  all  the  stages  of  the 
sorceress,    the    heroine,    and    the    saint.       While   the 

1  See  on  this  point  a  Imllicinl  article  by  M.  James  Darmesteter  pub- 
lished in  La  XouveUe  Revue. 


CHINON  (  Continued )  5  5 


first  rumours  of  her  presence  were  still  rife  in  the 
English  camp/  came  her  brief  and  emphatic  letter  : 
"  Allez-vous-en  en  \otre  paj's,  de  par  Dieu.  Roi 
d'Angleterre,  si  vous  n'obeissez,  sachcz  qu'en  quelquc 
lieu  de  France  que  j'atteigne  vos  gens,  je  les  en  ferai 
sortir  bon  gre  mal  gre."  And  if  the  English  soldiers 
thought  the}'  had  the  powers  of  hell  to  deal  with, 
they  found  them  no  less  hard  to  overcome  than 
any  heavenly  help.  "  The  Lord  had  put  a  sword 
into  her  mouth,"  and  even  German}-  and  Ital}'  had 
recognised  its  power. 

There  is  no  contemporary  mention  of  her  in 
English  writings,  except  a  line  in  W'illiam  of 
Worcester.  Caxton  gives  a  small  page  to  her  in  his 
English  Chronicles,  in  which  is  mentioned  the  lie  that 
Shakespeare  has  preserved  against  her  tainted  i)urit}-. 
Historians,  whose  chief  profession  was  the  failli  of 
Christ  born  in  a  manger,  were  equally  unfavourable 
in  dealing  with  the  peasant  heroine  of  France.' 
By  Thomas  Fuller  she  is  still  classed  with  the 
Witch  of  Endor,  and  it  is  only  in  the  eighteenth 
century  that  the  change  begins.  Then  onl}-,  when 
France  was  "  too  advanced  to  belie\e  in  God,  and 
not  advanced  enough  to  believe  '\w  the  Divine."  the 
Rationalism  of  England  said  that  Jeanne  was  at  least 
not    of    hell.      As    Ouicherat    fort}-    }-ears    ago    first 


'  *><:<:  Journal  d' tin  Boiiri^eois  dc  raiis,  aniicc  1429. 
'  In  Holinshcd,  cd.  1577,  she  is  called  "  tlial  im>nstri>us  maid,  Jean 
la  Tuccll  dc  Dieu." 


56  OLD   TOURAINK 


showed   her  truly  to  the  world,  amidst  the  horror  of 

the  courtiers  and  ecclesiastics  of  her  tiinc  at  the 
flood  of  faith  and  ])urit\-  and  truth  slic  poured  out 
upon  the  miserable  pettiness  of  their  depraved 
ambitions,  so  (nithrie  in  1747  first  pointed  out  how 
the  least  tint  of  falsehood  would  have  smirched  her 
fame,  and  how  she  came  out  pure  as  fine  gold  from 
every  proof.  The  truth  had  come  at  last,  and  from 
the  most  convincing  quarter — from  the  country  that 
had  least  to  win  in  proving  it.  To  Southey  she  is 
the  one  pure  figure  in  a  luxurious  and  selfish  age ; 
to  Carl}'le  these  "  French  without  heart,  mockers 
forgetting  God,  are  not  worthy  of  this  noble  virgin," 
this  maid  "to  whom  all  maidens  upon  earth  should 
bend,"  as  Landor  bids  them. 

After  Jeanne's  death  a  certain  change  seems  to 
have  come  over  the  King's  life  at  Chinon.'  h^rom  the 
Tour  d\-\rgentan,  in  the  corner  of  the  Chateau  du 
^lilieu  farthest  from  the  entrance,  it  is  said  that  a 
secret  passage  used  to  wind,'  by  which  Charles  VII., 
at  that  time  more  worthy  of  the  name  of  King,  visited 
Agnes  Sorel,  whose  statue  rests  upon  its  sculptured 
lambs  at  Lochcs. 

"  Je  vais  conibattre  ;  Agnes  I'ordonne  ; 
Adieu  repos  ;  plaisirs  adieu," 

1  The  fame  of  the  favourite  of  Charles  VII.  has  rather  obscured  the 
virtue  and  goodness  of  his  wife,  who  quietly  encouraged  all  the  best 
influences  of  the  time  ;  see  the  miniature  in  Lcs  Doiize  Pcrilz  d/Eiifer 
by  her  learned  chaplain  Robert  Blondcl,  in  which  he  jircsents  the  Ijook 
to  her,  1455. — Bihlioth.  de  V Arsenal. 

-  No  traces  of  it  exist  now. 


CHIXOX  {Confi/iucii)  57 

as  Beranger  makes  him  say,  and  whether  owing  to 
the  influence  of  "  la  belle  des  belles  "  or  not,  the  King 
of  1450  is  a  ver\-  different  man  from  the  "  roi 
faineant"  for  whom  Jeanne  d'Arc  died. 

"  Dunois,  la  Treniouille,  Saintrailles, 
O  Fran^ais  I  quel  jour  enchant^ 
Quand  des  lauriers  de  vingt  batailles 
Je  couronnerai  ta  beaute  ! 
Frangais,  nous  devrons  a  ma  belle 
Moi  la  gloire  et  vous  le  bonheur. 
J'oubliais  Thonneur  auprcs  d'elle  ; 

Agnes  me  rend  tout  11  Thonneur."  ^ 

The  changed  King  had  turned  out  his  old  favourites 
and  replaced  them  by  men  like  the  Count  de  Riche- 
mont  and  Jacques  Cccur  ; "  by  1453,  after  the  death 
of  Talbot  in  Guienne,  there  were  no  more  English 
in    I'rance   except   at    Calais.        In    that    same    year 

^  The  lines  of  Colonel  Lovelace  come  irresistibly  into  our  memory 
with  their  higher  thought — 

"  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  honour  more." 

-  Jacques  Cceur  was  "argentier  d'iceluy  roy  de  France"  (Charles 
VII.),  says  Du  Clerq,  "lequel  Jacques  Coeur  estoit  e.xtrait  de  petite 
generation  sans  quelque  noblesse.  En  sa  jeunesse  il  se  bouta  en 
marchandise  .  .  .  et  devint  sy  puissant  par  tous  les  royaulmes  qu'il 
expedioit  et  meme  comme  on  disoit  en  Sarragie.  II  avait  fait  faire  a 
Bourges  une  maison  la  plus  richc  de  quoy  on  pouvait  parler."  This 
house  with  its  motto  "a  cceur  vaillant  rien  impossible"  is  well  worth 
seeing  ;  it  has  been  charmingly  descril>e<l  by  Mr.  Henry  James. 

Jacques  Cccur  when  exiled  from  the  French  Court  was  received  with 
great  consideration  at  Rome,  and  though  he  had  been  fmed  ten  millicjn 
crowns,  yet  fcjund  enough  left  to  live  as  honourably  as  he  had  d(jnc 
l>cforc.  He  never  returned  to  France.  See  Thomas  IJasin,  I/istoire  lie 
Charles  VII.  et  Louis  XL,  iv.  26,  also  Du  Clcrr],  Mi'nioircs,  III.  iii., 
and  Mathicu  de  Coucy,  Chronii/ucs,  cix. 


5cS  OLD  TOL'KA/XE 


Constantinople  had   been   taken   by  the  Turks,  and 

the  IcainiiiL;-  of  llie  l^astcrn  caiMtal  was  scaltci-cd 
broadcast  in  the  west  to  ijrow  into  the  full  (lower 
of  the  Renaissance. 

lUit  even  Agnes  Sorel  could  not  charm  away 
the  troubles  which  i)ursucd  Charles  \'I1.  in  all  his 
chateaux.  i\t  Chinon  the  l)au[)hin  had  been 
whisperinc^  with  the  Sire  de  Chabannes,  and  from 
the  window  of  his  rooms  was  plotting  awa\'  the 
honour  of  the  Scottish  guards.  L'seless  to  execute 
several  of  the  soldiers  and  to  expel  the  Dauphin — 
one  trouble  was  but  followed  by  another.  Heralds 
arrived  with  their  futile  explanations  and  were  sent 
back  in  anger,  and  at  last  the  King  with  his  soldiers 
wearily  set  out  for  Amboise  on  his  wa\-  northwards. 
At  Mehun  sur  Ycvre  he  died,  and  the  news  soon 
came  to  Marie  d'Anjou,  the  wife  he  had  left  at  home, 
that  she  was  a  widow,  for  black  care  sat  behind 
the  horseman  and  killed  him  more  surcl)^  than  the 
arrows  of  the  enem)-.' 

The  reign  of  Louis  XI.  was  marked  at  Chinon 
b\-  the  arrival  at  the  ro\-al  stronghold  of  Margaret 
of  Anjou.  Quitting  for  a  time  the  struggles  between 
Lancaster  and  York,  this  somewhat  turbulent  Queen 
had  left  Kirkcudbright  for  Brittau)-  and  Anjou  to  get 
help  from  Louis  XL,  who  promised  more  than  might 
have  been  expected  of  him.  lie  probabl)-  had  his 
reasons.     He  had  already  helped  Rene,  and  the  house 

^  22d  July  1461  ;  see  Mathicu  de  Coucy,  Chroniques,  cap.  c.\xv. 


CHIXON  ( Continued)  59 

of  Anjou  must  be  still  further  conciliated  by  the 
help  of  Rene's  daughter.  An\-  diversion,  too,  that 
would  tend  to  unsettle  the  dynasty  in  England  was 
a  welcome  aid,  keeping  the  English  in  a  state  of 
enforced  neutral it\-  ;  there  was  even  the  chance  of 
Calais  being  surrendered  as  the  price  of  help.  So, 
strangely  enough,  Peter  de  Breze,  the  Seneschal 
of  Xormandy,  was  offered  his  choice  of  continued 
prison  or  the  chances  of  the  English  wars,  and  we 
find  him  later  on  assisting  the  restless  Margaret 
at  the  siege  of  Alnwick,  while  the  strife  between 
the  two  parties  went  on  as  fiercely  as  ever. 

Louis  himself  did  not  often  darken  Chinon  w  ith 
his  presence.  It  was  close  to  here,  at  Les  Forges,  in 
the  forest  to  the  north-east,  that  while  the  King  was 
at  dinner,  "  luy  vint  comme  une  perclusion,"  and  he 
lost  the  power  of  speech.  Commines,  who  tells  us 
of  the  scene,  was  sent  for,  and  waited  on  his  sick 
master  for  forty  days.  Other  courtiers,  who  had 
not  been  so  well  advised  in  their  offers  of  assistance, 
were  exiled  from  the  Court  as  soon  as  Louis  re- 
covered. His  great  fear  was  a  loss  of  authority  in 
his  weakness.  All  the  time  of  his  illness  the  two 
brothers,  Louis  and  Charles  d'Amboise,  were  writing 
despatches  and  arranging  affairs  of  State  in  a  lower 
room,  but  every  letter  had  to  be  taken  up  to  the 
paralytic,  who  could  barely  sec  or  speak,  to  receive 
the  mocker)'  of  his  approval.  It  was  at  the  time  of 
his  recovery  from  this  attack   that  he  at  last  released 


6o  OLD  TOURAIXE 


Cardinal  Baluc,  whom  he  kept  imprisoned  fourteen 
years.  Mis  last  and  fatal  illness  overtook  him  at 
Plessis-lez-Tours. 

A  more  intercstincj  event  is  the  betrothal  of 
Philippe  de  Commincs  to  Mdlle.  de  Montsoreau, 
which  took  place  at  Chinon  in  1473.  It  was 
durinLj  the  strange  scene  at  Pcronnc,  where 
the  craft  of  Louis  almost  overreached  itself  and 
placed  him  in  the  hands  of  Charles,  Duke  of 
Burgund}',  that  Commines  had  first  learned  the 
extraordinary  intellectual  powers  of  Louis  XL,  with 
which  he  seems  to  have  been  so  much  dazzled  that 
he  lost  sight  of  the  depravity  of  that  odious 
monarch's  real  character.  Just  before  his  betrothal 
the  historian  had  passed  into  France,  where  "  Louis 
XL  lui  fit  cet  honncur  de  dire  qu'il  I'avait  bien 
servy  a  Peroniie."  The  Duke  of  Ikirgundy  let  him 
off  all  debts  on  his  estate,  the  convenient  sum  of 
6000  livres  came  in  from  a  jeweller  at  Tours,  and 
he  was  richly  rewarded  by  the  French  King  for  a 
loyalt}-  which  was  frequently  held  up  to  the  imitation 
of  his  companions.  That  there  was  a  real  tic  of 
sympathy  and  friendship  between  these  two  very 
different  characters  is  seen,  if  in  nothing  else, 
in  the  fact  that  Commincs  was  almost  the  only 
man  who  could  understand  the  King's  enfeebled 
utterances  during  his  illness.  This  keenness  of 
temperament  was  reflected,  too,  in  the  finesse 
with    which    he    managed    all    the    political    affairs 


CHINON  {Continued)  6i 

with  which   he   was    entrusted    either   in    France  or 
Italy. 

Among  his  other  rewards  he  was  made  Governor 
of  Chinon  in  1476,  and  soon  began  to  take  that 
active  part  in  politics  which  ended  later  on  in  his 
imprisonment  at  Loches  by  Anne  of  Beaujeu,  who 
held  the  ro\'al  power  for  her  young  brother  Charles 
VIII.  "  I  have  ventured  on  the  great  ocean,"  he 
says  regretfulh',  "  and  the  waves  devoured  me." 
But  he  emerged  with  safety  later  on,  and  the  world 
gained  his  histor\-,  written,  it  is  said,  in  the  hours 
of  his  enforced  leisure.  He  was  employed  by 
Charles  VIII.  and  favoured  by  Louis  XII.,  though 
this  latter  monarch  showed  him  some  little  in- 
gratitude, and  perhaps  rather  feared  the  political 
experience  of  a  minister  of  Louis  XI.  His  work 
as  an  ambassador,  especially  in  Italy,  was  always 
of  service  to  his  country ;  his  work  as  a  writer 
was  the  only  thing  of  the  kind  that  could  have 
been  compared  to  that  of  ]\Iachiavelli  or  even 
of  Guicciardini,  the  first  sound  attempt  at  a  philo- 
sophy of  history  ;  and  b\-  his  death  at  Argenton, 
near  Chinon,  France  lost  one  of  her  most  skilful 
statesmen  and  far  the  best  historian  of  his  timc.^ 

'  Montaigne's  ojiinion  of  Commines  is  worlii  recording  here.  "  Kn 
Monsieur  I'hilippc  de  Commines  il  y  a  cecy  :  vous  y  trouverez  le  langage 
doux  el  agreable  d'unc  naifve  simplicitc,  la  narration  pure,  et  en 
laquclie  la  bonne  foy  de  I'autheur  reluit  cvidamment  exempte  de  vanite 
parlant  dc  soy,  ct  d'affection  et  d'envic  parlant  d'autruy."  Mon- 
taigne's recommendation  of  his  own  essays  to  his  readers  couKl  produce 
no  Ijctter  justification   for  an  autlior's    work.       .Matthieu    d'.\rr:is.    a 


62  OLD  TOUKAINE 


"  Si  tu  n'as  plus  que  faire  en  cette  eglise  ici," 

says  Ronsard,  in  some  lines  on  Commincs, 

"  Rclounie  en  ta  maison  ct  contc  a  ton  fils  conime 
Tu  as  \u  le  tombeau  du  premier  gentilhomnie 
Qui  d'un  cfL'ur  vertueux  fit  a  la  France  voir 
Que  c'est  honneur  do  joindrc  au\  amies  le  s^avoir." 

It  is  from  the  Itah'  that  was  tlic  scene  of 
Commincs'  most  brilh'ant  nci;(;tiations  that  the  next 
actor  comes  who  plays  an  important  part  at  Chinon. 
In  1498  Louis  XII.,  who  had  just  come  to  the 
throne,  was  applying  to  Pope  Alexander  VI.  for  a 
divorce  from  his  first  wife,  Jeanne  de  I'rance.  The 
ro}-al  letters  came  to  the  X'atican  during  the  reign  of 
the  Borgias.  Lucrezia  was  being  gi\-cn  in  marriage 
to  one  after  another  of  the  Italian  princes  as  it 
suited  the  policy  of  her  unscrupulous  father.  C.xsar 
Borgia,  who  had  not  long  before  murdered  his  brother, 
the  Duke  of  Gandia,  was  longing  to  give  full  rein  to 
his  ambition,  to  throw  away  his  Cardinal's  hat  and 
take  up  the  sword,  to  fight  his  way  from  a  successful 
captainc}'  to  the  Dukedom  of  the  Romagna,  and 
even  higher  honours.  The  request  of  Louis  XII. 
came  at  a  ver}-  opportune  moment.  The  bill  of 
divorce  was  easily  bought  from  Ciusar's  father  by 
the  gift  of  the  Duchy  of  Valentinois  to  his  son,  and 
a  treaty  promising  equal  advantages  to   France  and 

friend  of  Commines,  tells  us  he  was  tall  and  handsome,  that  he  spoke 
German,  Italian,  and  Spanish,  that  his  memory  was  prodigious,  and 
his  industry  amazing. 


CHINON  {Continued) 


63 


the  \'atican.      In  the  general  interchange  of  civilities 
GeorGfes  d'Amboise  was  given  a  Cardinal's  hat,  and 


ZALiiSV.  liuKiiiA  (drawn  from  the  Woodcul  in  Paulus  Jovius,  cU.  1575) 

towards  the  end  of  1498  C.xsar  liorgia  set  out  from 
Ostia  for  Marseilles,  accomj)anicd    by  the    Baron    de 


64  OLD  TOI'RAINE 


Trans,   the    French   ambassador,   and   provided   with 

ample  funds  for  his  hu'ish  exi:)enditurc  upon  tlie 
\\a\'  from  the  two  huiKhwl  thousand  cUicats  seized 
from  the  unfortunate  l^ishop  of  Calahorra. 

In  those  daws  the  science  of  etiquette  was  ver)' 
fcarfull}-  and  wonderfulh'  arranged,  and  in  all  their 
treatises  the  worried  officials  at  the  I-'rench  Court 
could  find  no  mention  of  the  reception  proper  to 
a  Pope's  son.  The  difficulty  was  evaded  without 
suppressing  the  gorgeous  entr)-  which  it  was  well 
known  the  Italian  had  prepared  for  himself  and 
his  suite.  The  King  went  hunting  with  his  Court 
and  met  Borgia  some  miles  outside  the  town  ; 
upon  the  bridge  across  the  ri\er  the  Cardinal  de 
Rohan  was  read\-  to  receive  the  Italians,  and  headed 
the  procession  that  started  for  the  castle  gates ; 
every  detail  of  its  magnificence  has  been  carefully 
preserved  for  us. 

First  came  eighty  mules  in  gorgeous  harness 
blazoned  with  Caesar  Borgia's  crest  and  arms,  fol- 
lowed b}'  the  finest  horses  of  the  prince's  stables  ; 
then  eighteen  pages  riding,  clad  in  "  velours  cram- 
oisie,"  two  of  them  resplendent  in  cloth  of  gold  ; 
more  mules  followed  "  still  more  exquisitely  ap- 
pointed," evidently  carr}-ing  "the  precious  documents 
from  Rome,"  thought  the  onlookers  ;  after,  amid  a 
flourish  of  drums  and  trumpets,  rode  the  new  Due 
de  Valentinois  and  his  suite,  among  whom  was  the 
Cardinal  d'Amboise.      The  duke  was  resplendent  in 


CHINON  {Continued) 


red  satin  and  cloth  of  gold,  and  thickly  covered  with 
jewels  ;  great  rubies  were  in  his  cap,  his  very  boots 
were  sewn  with  precious  stones.^  A  crowd  of  mules, 
carriages,  and  litters  closed  the  procession  ; 

"  Ainsi  entra  pour  avoir  grand  renom 
Ledit  Seigneur  au  Chateau  de  Chinon," 

sings  the  poet  whom  Brantome  copied  ;  but  while 
the  formal  welcome  was  in  progress  within  the  ro\-al 
apartments,  the  old  soldiers  who  had  fought  through 
Italy  with  Charles  VIII.  were  laughing  at  this  new- 
fledged  Frenchman's  ostentation,  a  displa}',  by  the 
way,  which  Caesar  rarely  allowed  himself  in  Italy. 

That  evening  the  articles  of  the  treaty  were  agreed 
upon — the  divorce  was  granted  and  the  alliance 
formed  against  Naples  ;  in  return,  h^rancc  was  to 
help  the  Pope  in  the  Romagna,  Caesar  was  to 
receive  the  Duchy  of  \'alentinois  and  certain  sums 
down  in  ready  money  ;  better  than  all,  he  was  to  be 
given  the  services  of  one  hundred  French  knights  ; 
\}c\Q.  flairs  de  lys  of  France  were  to  be  quartcrcil  with 
the  Borgia  arms — "  c'ctait  lui  livrcr  I'ltalie,"  says 
Michelet.     But  what  was  perhaps  nearer  to  the  duke's 

^  An  authentic  portrait  of  Caesar  Borgia  is  a  difficult  thing  to  find. 
Of  the  jx)rtraits  in  the  Bibliothef|ue  Nalionale,  a  drawing  by  Lecreur  is 
the  best,  which  is  probably  taken  from  the  woodcut  in  Paulus  Jovius. 
The  famous  description  of  Ca*sar  Borgia  wliich  Jovius  gives  is  worth 
inserting  :  "  F'aciem  atro  rubore  suffusam  .  .  .  oculostjue  introrsus  re- 
cedentes,  et  atroci  vipereo(|ue  obtutu  scintillantes  ac  igneos  osleiidcret, 
fjuos  nee  amici  quidem  et  familiares  contuend(j  ferre  possent  ;  quancjuani 
eos  inter  focminas  jocabundus,  niira  commutatione  ad  lenitatem  con- 
verlcre  consuessct." — I'AULI  J0%'II,  Elogia,  p.  20I.      1575. 


66  OLD   TOUKAINE 


ambition,  the  promise  of  a  high  alh'ance,  was  not  so 
easily  performed  :  negotiations  dragged  on  unuill- 
ingl\',  and  when  the  Court  left  for  Loches  in  the 
spring  C.x'sar  was  half  inclined  to  return  to  Ital\-  in 
disgust  ;  but  he  stayed  a  little  longer,  and  at  lilois 
we  shall  hear  how  he  fared. 

The  later  history  of  Chinon  is  not  so  full  of 
interest  ;  the  movement  of  events  passes  to  the 
other  chateaux,  whose  Renaissance  windows  had 
been  scarcel)-  thought  of  when  Ca.'sar  l^orgia  was 
in  France.  The  castle  is  somewhat  troubled  b\-  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  Wars  of  Religion  and  frequently 
changes  hands,  not  without  suffering  from  the  excesses 
of  both  parties.  The  townspeople  of  Chinon,  who 
seem  to  have  shown  an  extraordinary  amount  of 
pluck  and  spirit  in  these  tr\'ing  times,  were  still 
further  harassed  b\-  a  terrible  \isitation  of  the  plague: 
the  first  attack  lasted  four  j-ears.  After  the  murder  of 
Guise  at  Blois  had  still  further  embittered  party  spirit 
throughout  the  kingdom,  and  Henry  of  Navarre  had 
led  his  forces  to  Chinon  on  his  way  to  attack  the 
Due  de  Mayenne,  who  had  succeeded  his  murdered 
brother  in  the  headship  of  the  Catholic  League,  the 
plague  broke  out  again  in  1589,  and  throughout 
the  unhappy  little  town  the  red  and  white  crosses 
were  marked  upon  the  doors,  and  great  fires  burnt 
at  every  thirty  paces  to  purify  the  poisoned  air. 
A  strange  glimpse  of  the  habits  of  the  time  is  given 
in    the    records    of    the    rude    sanitar}'    precautions 


CH/XOX  {Continued)  67 


that  were  taken  at  this  crisis  :  "  pourccaux,  vaches, 
pigeons,  oies,  Cannes,  ou  autres  betes  immondcs  "  are 
to  be  kept  out  of  the  houses,  sa}-s  the  edict,  which 
might  have  been  framed  for  the  benefit  of  a  be- 
nighted Irish  peasantry  ;  one  Matthieu  Renard  and 
his  wife  are  charged  with  the  care  of  the  sick  at  a 
fixed  price. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  distress  events  outside 
were  following  fast.  The  letter  of  Henry  III.  to  his 
wife  Louise,  at  Chinon.  reached  her  after  her  husband's 
death  by  the  knife  of  Jacques  Clement  ;  she  retired 
to  an  inconsolable  widowhood  in  Chenonceaux. 
The  old  Cardinal  de  Bourbon  had  been  summoned 
from  his  prison  in  tlic  castle  to  dispute  his  royal  title 
with  Henry  of  Xa\-arrc,  and  died  without  defending  it. 
Chinon  was  rapidly  entering  on  the  last  centur\-  of 
its  existence. 

The  history  of  the  town  in  the  first  years  of  the 
seventeenth  century  gains  considerabh-  in  interest 
from  the  careful  accounts  of  its  "  Receveur,  M. 
Besnard,"  which  have  been  preserved  by  M.  de 
Cougn\-.  After  the  peace  this  good  I\I.  Besnard, 
whose  acquaintance  it  is  quite  worth  while  to  make 
in  these  records,  welcomes  with  his  fellow-townsmen 
the  Prince  of  Conde.  He  fires  salvos  of  honour  frfim 
certain  "fauconnaux"  placed  upon  the  bridge,  which 
was  still  in  ruins,  and  presents  the  tratlilional 
offering  of  fruit  and  wine,  nay,  even  searches  ior 
artii  hola.-s   to   send    up  to  the  ra^^tlf,  and  "confitures 


68  OLD  rOURAlNE 


seches "    for    the    piiiiccss  —  the    last    refinement   of 
politeness. 

Condc  was  soon  sent  ^-''Ci  to  X'inccnnes,  and 
there  was  no  one  mnv  to  send  sweetmeats  to  the 
ladies,  for  Rochcfort,  the  "  ame  damncc "  of  the 
Cardinal,  is  there  instead,  and  soon  the  whole  town 
is  cringing  to  the  great  Richelieu  himself  in  the  full 
pride  of  that  despotism  which  was  partly  forced 
upon  him  b)-  the  anarchy  of  Huguenot  revolutions. 
How  the  delicate  but  frugal  soul  of  Besnard 
would  have  shuddered  had  he  seen  the  town-clcrk 
of  a  community  grown  recklessly  extravagant  spend 
nearly  three  hundred  livres  upon  a  single  fete. 
But  it  was  almost  the  last  that  Chinon,  either 
town  or  castle,  was  to  see.  In  1628  the  outraged 
inhabitants  with  difficulty  persuaded  Muret,  the 
King's  architect,  to  spare  their  castle  walls  ;  and 
when  Chinon  was  joined  with  Langeais,  Richelieu, 
and  other  estates  to  the  great  possessions  of  the 
Cardinal,  the  old  castle  only  bored  him,  and  was 
designedly  left  to  ruin  and  decay. 

One  of  the  greatest  of  the  feudal  monuments 
was  allowed  to  moulder  into  uselessness,  like  the 
institutions  of  which  it  was  a  remnant,  b\'  the  man 
with  whose  name  is  chiefly  connected  the  final 
crushing  of  the  feudal  spirit.  M.  Touchard  Lafosse 
says  that  in  1758  the  room  where  Jeanne  d'Arc  was 
received  still  stood  in  its  entirety.    He  publishes,  too,^ 

1  Paris,  Delahays,  1S56,  La  Loire  Historiqiie. 


CH/NOX  {Cofiii/n/ed)  69 

an  engraving  that  shows  the  complete  hnes  of  the 
fortress  before  the  chateau  of  the  Plantagenets  had 
fallen  ;  but  for  two  centuries  the  whole  castle  has 
been  slowly  crumbling  to  its  foundations,  and  it  will 
probably  take  many  more  before  time  has  utter!}- 
destroyed  its  might}-  buttresses  and  walls.  The 
stones  of  Chinon  will  die  hard,  but  its  memories  will 
live,  though  both  are  growing  older,  and  perhaps 
weaker,  year  by  }car. 


CHAl'Tl'-R  V 

FONTKVKAULT 

"Tliink  liuw  many  royal  bones 
Sleep  within  these  heaps  of  stones.   .  .   . 
Here's  a  world  of  pomp  and  state 
Buried  in  dust,  once  dead  by  fate." 

F.  Beaumont. 

0\  a  cold  winter's  morning"  \vc  started  from  Chinon 
to  follow  that  funeral  procession  of  the  Plantagenets, 
which  we  had  pictured  to  ourselves  before,  to  their 
last  home  at  Fontevrault. 

The  road  leads  straight  southward  from  the  town 
for  a  short  distance  away  from  the  \'ienne,  then 
turning  sharply  to  the  west  and  north  winds  through 
pleasant  apple  orchards  and  walnut  -  trees  till  it 
joins  the  river  bank  again  opposite  Port  Gu}-ot. 
Some  three  or  four  miles  farther  on  we  reached 
the  extreme  limit  of  the  Province  of  Indre  et  Loire, 
the  town  of  Candes,^  where  the  dark  and  swift 
waters  of  the  Vienne  mingled  with  the  ice-bound 
current  of  the  T^oire.      The  bright  rays  of  a  December 

^  M.  Touchard  Lafosse  {op.  cit.)  publishes  a  very  good  engraving  of 
the  view  of  Candes  from  the  right  bank  of  the  Vienne. 


FONTEVRAULT  71 


sun  lit  up  the  circles  of  broken  ice  that  were  swirled 
rapidly  down  the  stream,  and  touched  the  tall  sails 
of  the  black  windmills  dark  against  the  sk}--linc  of 
the  western  shore,  where  numbers  of  little  churches 
between  the  forest  and  the  river  marked  the  sites  of 
villages  and  castles  long  since  in  ruins.  And  Candes 
itself  is  little  like  to  what  it  was.  Placed  at  the 
meeting  of  the  waters,  it  must  very  early  have  been 
marked  out  as  a  place  of  some  importance,  and 
indeed,  before  400  there  must  have  been  a  con- 
siderable number  of  clergy  at  the  church  which  the 
famous  Bishop  of  Tours  had  built  here,  for  in 
that  }-ear  St.  Martin,  being  on  a  visit  to  the  priests, 
died  at  Candes.^  His  body  was,  after  some  dispute 
with  the  men  of  Poitou,  buried  at  Tours,  and  the 
church  at  Candes  was  consecrated  afresh  to  his 
memory.  It  was  no  unworthy  companion,  on  a 
small  scale,  to  that  great  shrine  at  Tours,  of  which 
but  two  towers  remain  to  indicate  its  ancient  size 
and  beaut}-. 

In  any  other  country  than  Touraine  such  a  church 
as  that  at  Candes  would  have  alone  made  the  district 
famous,  and  no  greater  surprise  had  encountered  us 
than  this  sudden  sight  of  sculptured  saints  and  battle- 
mented  roofs-  at   an  opening  of  the  twisting  little 

'  In  1495  ''^"^  town  had  already  licgun  to  decrease  in  .size  and 
imjxjrlance.  Sec  Comniine.s,  VIII.  iv.,  "  La  ville  (Vigcvano)  ne  vaut 
poinct  Sainct  Martin  de  Cantle,  qui  n'cst  ricn.s." 

-  This  coml)ination  of  church  and  fortress  was  not  «nct>mnion  in  tlie 
Middle  .Ages,  and  was  not  without  its  value.     The  Catiiedral  of  Nar- 


72  OLD   'JXn'RAINE 


villacfc  street.  The  exterior  decoration  of  the  porch, 
wliich  is  flanked  by  two  towers  crowned  willi  maclii- 
cohitions  like  a  fortress,  shows  signs  of  the  double 
influences  at  work  during  the  century  when  the  church 
was  built.  The  date  in  the  nave  is  12  15,  when  it 
was  probably  begun  ;  it  was  finished  towards  the  end 
of  the  ccntur}-,  and  the  sculiilurc  (jf  the  figures  round 
the  porch,  though  terribly  mutilated,  shows  signs  of 
the  older  Byzantine  tendencies  slowly  yielding  to 
the  new  Gothic  art.  The  fourteen  statues  rest  on 
a  base  richl\-  decorated  with  foliage  and  strange 
monsters,  twisting  round  the  heads  of  kings  and 
queens  carved  with  marvellous  expression.  The 
decoration  is  extended  up  the  tow'crs,  and  seems 
in  man}'  cases  unfinished,  for  in  several  of  the 
niches  simple  blocks  of  stone  are  left  that  have 
never  been  carved  into  completeness.  The  interior 
of  the  porch  is  supported  b\-  one  light  springing 
column,  whose  capital  branches  into  the  groined 
work  of  a  roof  all  carved  with  statues  and  strange 
arabesques.  Within'  the  church  the  same  transition 
of  style  is  observable.  The  lacework  of  the  foliage 
upon  the  double  rank  of  pillars  in  the  nave  is  in  the 
late  thirteenth-century  Gothic,  while  the  capitals  in 
the  choir  are  ]^}-zantine.  The  whole  of  the  interior  is 
filled  with  quaint  and  grotesque  carvings,  many  of 
which  were  fortunateh-  untouched  b\-  the  restorers  of 

bonne,  which  anciently  formed  part  of  the  defences  of  the  archeveche, 
"bristles  with  battlements." — Henry  James,  A  Little  Tour  in  Fravcc. 


FOXTEVRAULT 


the  seventeenth  century.  Of  the  chateau  little  more 
than  ruins  can  be  sq.q.x\,  \qX  it  had  once  a  certain 
notoriety  and  importance  ;  it  underwent  a  hot  siege 
from  Geoffrey  IMartel,  and  it  served  at  various  times 
to  shelter  Philip  Augustus,  Charles  VII.,  and  Louis 
XI.  It  was  here,  too,  that  Pierre  dc  Courcelles 
paraphrased  the  Song  of  Solomon  in  French  verses 
to  accompany  Clement  Marot's  new  metrical  transla- 
tion of  the  Psalms. 

The  road  along  the  river  bank  turns  south  to 
Fontevrault  at  the  village  of  Montsoreau,  which  irre- 
sistibly reminded  us  of  Bussy  d'Amboise  and  his 
unfortunate  Diana.^  But  the  place  was  long  filled 
with  more  terrible  associations.  It  served  as  the 
rendezvous  for  a  swarm  of  titled  robbers,  whose 
exactions  from  the  voyagers  up  and  down  the  Vienne 
and  the  Loire  remained  a  standing  source  of  anno}"- 
ance  to  the  district  until  the  days  when  Richelieu 
could  veil  his  policy  beneath  a  semblance  of  benevo- 
lence, and  relieve  the  river  trade  by  crushing  the 
feudal  rights  of  Mont.soreau.  The  chateau  must 
have  once  been  a  fine  one;  the  facade  is  still  impos- 
ing, pierced  with  loopholes  and  supported  by  strong 
flanking  towers  ;  its  massive  walls  and  masonr)- 
attest  the  goodness  of  the  stone  in  this  district  ;  the 
square  (juarricd  blocks  still   line  the  cjuax-s  aloni;  tin- 

'  It  was  in  ihc  chateau  of  Coulancicre  at  Brain,  in  tlie  .Sauniur  dis- 
trict, that  the  scene  of  Hussy's  niunler  actually  took  jjlace,  as  it  is 
described  in  Dumas's  tlirillinj^  story. 


74  OLD  TOUKAINE 


river  here,  ready  to  be  floated  down  to  Saumiir  and 
the  west. 

As  \vc  slowly  mounted  the  hill  the  first  towers  of 
the  Abbey  of  Fontevrault  came  in  sii;ht,  and  wc  were 
soon  parleying  for  admittance  with  the  sentinel  at 
the  great  door,  for  the  h'rcnch  Government,  with  its 
usual  love  of  strict  utilit\-,  has  turned  the  old  abbey 
into  a  vast  prison  or  criminal  reformatory,  guarded 
by  a  regiment.  The  long  lines  of  silent  prisoners  in 
their  dull  uniforms  and  round  caps  file  in  and  out 
beneath  the  arches  where  the  white-robed  nuns  in 
their  black  veils  used  to  flit  softly  to  and  fro  ;  one 
of  the  many  chapels  of  the  abbey  is  turned  into  the 
storehouse  for  the  garrison  beer  ;  lines  of  great  casks 
fill  up  the  spaces  between  the  pillars  that  lead  from 
the  altar  to  the  door  :  the  strange  contrast  seemed 
to  strike  the  keynote  of  the  abbey's  history,  the 
history  of  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  institution 
of  its  kind  in  Christendom,  and  one  of  the  most 
enduring,  for  it  was  as  far  back  as  the  end  of  the 
eleventh  century  that  Fontevrault  was  founded. 

At  this  time  one  Robert  d'Arbrissel,  a  monk  of 
"humble  but  honest  parentage"  and  a  scholar  of  some 
mark  at  Paris,  had  begun  to  distinguish  himself  by 
the  fervour  and  eloquence  of  his  preaching.  So 
great  became  his  renown  that  Pope  Urban  II. 
especially  requested  him  to  preach  in  favour  of  the 
Crusades,  which  just  then  were  moving  all  the  hearts 
of  Europe.    The  new  apostle  met  with  an  astonishing 


FONTEVRAULT  77 


success.  He  was  soon  surrounded  by  crowds  of  men 
and  women,  good  and  bad,  of  every  age  and  degree, 
who  left  all  to  follow  him.  At  the  head  of  this 
vast  multitude,  which  kept  increasing  every  day,  the 
preacher  wandered  through  town  and  country  until 
his  flock  of  converts  became  unmanageable.  He 
had  started  for  the  Hoh'  Land  ;  his  charity  was 
compelled  to  begin  nearer  home,  and  at  last  in  this 
valley  he  had  to  stop  and  make  some  provision  for 
his  strange  and  ill-assorted  company.  The  contrasts 
have  begun  already,  these  voyagers  for  Palestine 
settle  b)-  the  Loire  ;  such  was  the  strange  beginning 
of  the  famous  institution  that  was  to  shelter  the 
children  of  kings  beneath  its  roof,  and  to  become 
famous  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe. 

The  queer  pilgrimage  had  ceased  by  a  spring 
where  tradition  still  remembers  the  habitation  of  the 
robber  Evrault,  whose  stronghold  with  its  conical 
roof  and  lantern  is  still  recommended  to  the  wonder 
of  the  credulous.  The  place  had  a  bad  reputation, 
and  the  owners  of  the  ground  found  the  pious  task 
an  easy  one  of  giving  up  a  site  to  the  new  colony. 
Help  of  more  land,  of  food  and  clothing,  poured  in 
from  all  sides.  The  rough  clay  huts  and  dividing 
trenches  of  the  first  daj's  of  necessitx'  began  to  give 
way  to  more  substantial  buildings;  D'Arbrissel  began 
to  draw  up  rules  for  his  association. 

These  rules  were  absolutel}'  different  from  an\-thing 
that  had  been   heard  of  before  in  such  a  C(jnnection. 


7S  OLD   TOURAIXE 


At  Poitiers  or  at  Lucca  there  may  have  been  a 
monaster}'    ruled    b}-   an   abbess,  but   never   was   the 

principle  of  the  sui)eriority  of  woman  so  darint^ly 
asserted  as  at  h'ontevrault.  What  was  the  motixe  of 
D'Arbrissel  in  his  plans  it  is  difficult  and  perhaps 
profitless  to  conjecture,  but  the  fact  remains  that  the 
prosperit}^  of  Fontevrault  seemed  to  depend  up(jn  its 
Lad}'  Abbess,  and  to  vary  in  proportion  at  once  to 
the  strength  and  the  weakness  of  her  authorit}'. 

But  the  founder's  motto,  "  Mere  voila  votrc  fils,  fils 
voila  votre  mere,"  was  to  have  a  wider  meaning  still: 
the  mixed  character  of  his  first  flock  was  to  be 
reflected  in  the  future  constitution  of  the  community. 
The  first  four  houses  built  by  the  first  abbess  were 
for  the  learned  ladies,  for  penitent  women,  for  lepers, 
and  for  monks,  and  suggested  pretty  accurately  the 
mingled  elements  of  the  first  assembh',  which  had 
now  grown  to  the  respectable  figure  of  4000.  After 
leaving  the  strictest  rules  as  to  the  separation  of 
the  sexes,  their  clothing  and  their  food,  and  abso- 
lutely prohibiting  the  use  of  wine  ("  qui  fait  meme 
apostasier  les  sages,"  say  the  rules),  the  good  founder 
died,  and  was  honoured  b}-  a  funeral  at  which  a 
great  number  of  his  admirers  from  all  parts  ot  the 
country  assisted.  The  reign  of  the  abbesses  had 
begun  ;  a  glance  at  their  names  alone,  in  the  list 
published  by  ?kl.  ?\Ialifaud,  will  give  an  idea  of  the 
importance  to  which  the  institution  soon  attained. 

The    chief    interest    of   Fontevrault    for    English 


FOXTEVKAULT  79 


travellers  consists  in  the  help  and  protection  always 
afforded  to  it  by  the  Plantagenets,  whose  history 
was  sketched  at  Chinon  ;  these  English  kings,  as 
Counts  of  Anjou  and  Touraine,  loved  the  valley  of 
the  Loire,  and  particularh-  this  Fontevrault,  where 
many  of  their  princesses  took  the  veil.  Especially 
was  this  the  case  with  Henr\-  II.,  who  built  the  Pont 
aux  Nonnains,  which  we  have  already  heard  of,  across 
the  Vienne,  near  Chinon,  to  allow,  men  said,  an  easy 
passage  from  the  castle  to  the  abbey  and  its  fair 
inmates,  who  were  alread\-  suspected  of  something 
more  than  ready  hospitality. 

If  the  visitor  in  these  da\-s  is  not  so  fortunate  as  to 
arrive  soon  after  one  o'clock  on  Sunda)',  he  will  find 
the  military  strictness  of  the  establishment  ver\'  much 
against  his  wanderings  in  search  of  knowledge.  But 
he  will  at  least  be  able  to  see  all  that  remains 
intact  of  the  fine  church  whose  buttresses  and  roofs 
he  has  already  admired  from  a  distance.  The 
carving  round  the  outer  arch  upon  the  western  wall 
that  he  will  pass  upon  his  way  towards  the  entrance 
of  the  cloisters  is  particularly  worthy  of  attention, 
and  the  extremely  fine  circle  of  pillars  round  the 
apse  behind  the  great  altar  is  the  best  piece  of 
architecture  in  the  abbey. 

In  a  dark  little  chapel  in  the  right  transept  of 
this  same  mutilated  building  lie  the  four  Tlantagenct 
statues  ;  they  are  those  of  Henr)'  II.,  dressed  as  he 
was  borne  out  to  burial  frf)m  Chinon.  ant!  of  his  son 


So  OLD  TOURAINE 


Richard  Cceur-de-Lion  (whose  heart  is  at  Rouen). 
The  difference  in  the  expression  of  father  and  son  is 
very  well  rendered  ;  the}'  lie  in  the  niitldle  of  the 
group.  To  the  left  is  Eleanor  of  Guienne,  the  wife 
of  Henry  II.,  who  died  here  in  May  1204;  she 
holds  a  book  in  her  hands.  These  three  figures  are 
of  colossal  size,  hewn  out  of  the  tufa  rock,  and 
painted.  The  last,  and  perhaps  the  best  of  the 
four  as  a  work  of  art,  is  of  smaller  size  and  carved 
in  wood  which  has  also  been  coloured  :  it  represents 
another  English  Queen,  Isabel  of  Angouleme,  one 
of  the  most  wicked  and  most  beautiful  women  of  her 
time.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Aymar,  Count  of 
Angouleme,  and  upon  the  da\-  of  her  betrothal  to 
Hugues  de  Lusignan  she  was  carried  off  by  John 
of  England,  who  put  away  his  first  wife  Avice  to 
marry  this  unprincipled  and  voluptuous  beauty  ;  she 
bore  him  the  future  Henry  HI.  (whose  heart  was 
also  sent  to  Fontcvrault),  and  after  her  English 
husband's  death  came  back  to  France  to  marry  her 
old  lover. 

These  statues,  too,  have  a  history  of  their  own. 
Before  1638  there  lay  two  other  figures  in  the  old 
Cimetiere  des  Rois  beneath  the  cloister  of  the  nuns  ; 
they  were  the  effigies  of  Jeanne  d'Angleterre,  the 
Queen  of  Sicily,  and  of  her  son,  Count  Raymond  of 
Toulouse,  who  was  represented  beating  his  breast  for 
having  embraced  the  doctrines  of  the  heretics.  The 
sculptor   had    determined    that  the  count  should    be 


FONTEVRAULT  Si 


penitent  after  death  at  any  rate,  and  represent  the 
error  of  his  ways  in  effigy  to  after  centuries.  These 
last  two  statues  were  shattered  by  the  vandals  of  the 
Revolution,  who  broke  open  all  the  tombs  and  scat- 
tered their  ashes  to  the  winds  ;  they  had  no  leisure  to 
remember  that  the  Plantagenets  had  built  the  great 
d\'ke  beside  the  Loire  and  the  hospital  at  Angers, 
besides  numerous  other  works  of  public  good — Henry 
II.  alone,  in  time  of  great  famine,  supported  ten 
thousand  of  the  poor  a  day  upon  his  own  supplies. 
The  four  statues  that  remained  were  allowed  to 
moulder  into  ruins  until  in  i  8  i  7  the  English  Regent 
asked  for  them.  But  the  Prefect  of  the  Maine  et 
Loire  upheld  the  right  of  the  province  to  their  pos- 
session ;  the  interest  and  value  of  the  statues  had 
suddenly  become  apparent.  In  1848  Louis  Philippe 
consented  to  the  English  request ;  they  even  travelled 
through  the  busy  streets  of  Paris  to  the  Louvre  to 
be  repainted,  but  on  their  way  to  England  the 
famous  24th  of  February  intervened,  and  they  were 
reclaimed  finally  and  irrevocably  by  the  province  in 
which  they  now  rest  after  these  strange  wanderings. 
"  The  eastern  part  of  the  Abbey  of  I"'onte\rauIt," 
says  Mr.  Petit,*  "  though  it  exhibits  slightly  pointed 
arches,  has  a  pure  Romanesque  rather  than  a  transi- 
tional character.  The  choir  is  apsidal,  with  an  aisle 
of  the  same  shape,  and  radiating  semicircular  chapels, 

*  Architectural  StiiJics  in  France,  new  edition,  rcviscil  by   Ililw.inl 
licll. 

VOL.  I  G 


OLD  rOURAl.XE 


which  also  occur  eastward  of  the  transepts  ,  .  .  the 
roofs  are  in  general  c\lindrical."  Mr.  Petit  also 
saw  a  "very  curious  circular  structure  of  the  twclflli 
century,"  which  he  considered  to  be  E\rault's  hut. 
But  M.  Viollet  Ic  Due  conclusively  proves  that  it  is  a 
fine  example  of  a  twelfth-century  kitchen,  "  cuisine 
qui  existc  encore  mais  qui  passe  pour  unc  chapcUc 
fuficraire"  a  third  alternative  which  only  shows  how 
little  is  really  understood  of  mediaeval  habits. 

But  after  most  of  the  finest  of  these  buildings  had 
been  raised,  the  English  wars  that  harassed  France 
for  so  many  years  left  their  mark  upon  Fonte\-rault 
too  in  the  dismal  times  of  the  fourteenth  and  begin- 
ning of  the  fifteenth  centuries.  The  revenues  of  the 
abbey  lessened,  the  communit}-  began  to  grow  poor, 
dissensions  arose  in  its  midst,  and  the  more  its 
abbess  was  slighted  the  worse  the  abbe\'  fared. 
At  last  the  administration  fell  into  vigorous  hands  ; 
its  restoration,  which  had  been  begun  under 
great  difficulties  by  Marie  de  Bretagne,  was  carried 
on  firmly  and  successfully  by  Renec  de  Bourbon, 
"  Rcligieuse,  Reformee,  Reformante,"  as  she  called 
herself,  epithets  which  show  the  change  in  religious 
opinion  which  had  come  over  the  countr\'. 

Meanwhile  the  abbey  was  not  without  illustrious 
visitors.  Francis  I.  had  come  with  his  mother,  Louise  de 
Savoie,  and  the  daughter  of  Louis  XII.,  to  confide  his 
natural  sister  Madeleine  d'Orleans  to  the  care  of  Renee, 
and  we  find   the  loval   abbess  later  on  remembering 


TWELI-TII-CEN  rUKV    KlTl-in-.N    A  I     loM  I'.VH AL  1   1  . 

The  chiinncyi  arc  rc»lorcd  from  trace*  still  cxii,linK  in  tlic  buililiiiK,  whicli  i^  now  known  i 
the  "TourJ'Kvrault.  "— /'v«/  liol/cl  I,-  I'm. 


FONTEVRAULT  85 


the  visit  to  good  purpose  by  a  substantial  con- 
tribution to  the  ransom  of  the  ro}-al  princes  from 
their  capti\"ity  in  Spain.  In  tlic  next  rciij^n  another 
visitor  appeared  with  the  Duchesse  de  Guise  to  be 
shown  to  the  new  abbess,  Louise  de  Bourbon  ;  this 
was  Marie  Stuart,  who  was  staying  near  Saumur,  and 
came  to  be  admired  and  feasted  by  tlie  hospital:)lc 
nuns.^  The  wars  of  reHgion  later  on  left  their  traces 
too,  and  the  abbey  was  sharply  attacked  by  some 
of  the  royal  princes,  who  had  been  offended  at  some 
plain  speaking  of  the  Lad\-  Abbess  to  King  Charles 
IX.  But  the  gay  young  King  of  Navarre,  who  iiad 
apparently  helped  in  this  somewhat  foolish  attempt, 
was  welcomed  by  the  whole  communit}-  some  years 
afterwards,  \\hen  on  a  visit  to  his  aunt  with  tlie 
Princess  of  Conli.  The  records  of  the  feast  are  still 
preserved  :  the  prince  was  prudenth*  lodged  out  of 
danger  beyond  the  abbe\'  walls. 

A  visit  of  [Mademoiselle  de  INIontpensier  from 
her  dull  Court  at  Blois  is  worth  noticing,  for  she 
relates  that  soon  after  her  arrival  screams  and  loud 
cries  were  heard  from  an  inner  court  ;  she  was  told 
there  was  a  mad  woman  there,  confined  in  a  cell 
and  ab.solutely  naked  ;  she  went  to  see  at  once, 
and  stayed  there  until  supper.  The  sight  was 
repeated   the   next   day  with   a   new  \ictim,  but    the 

'  Tlic  monks  liy  ihis  time  had  learned  ihego.spel  of  good  livinj;  fidiu 
the  example  of  Gargantiia.  One  at  least,  (Jaliriel  dc  ruitsllcrliaut, 
liad  read  KalK-lais  to  some  purpose,  for  lie  puMislied  a  l»itter  attack 
against  that  author  ami  his  works  at  I'aiis  in  I5.)9. 


86  OLD  TOURALXE 


day  after  there  were  no  more  maniacs  to  laugh  at, 
so  "  fceHng  bored  "  she  left  the  abbc)-.  The  great 
Richelieu  had  been  seen  here  before,  and  seems  to 
have  made  some  efforts  to  mitigate  the  extremelj- 
severe  treatment  of  the  prisoners,  evidently  without 
much  success. 

Ikit  the  strictness  of  old  D'Arbrissel's  rules  was 
relaxing  as  time  went  on  and  abbesses  became 
more  worldly.  In  1670  Marie  Madeleine  Gabrielle 
de  Rochechouart  ^  is  combining  the  duties  of  Lady 
Abbess  with  a  translation  of  some  of  Plato's  works 
which  was  submitted  to  the  scrutiny  of  Racine, 
l^oileau,  IMadame  de  la  Fa)ctte,  and  Madame  de 
Maintenon  were  among  her  friends  too.  Ideas 
within  the  abbey  were  rapidly  enlarging.  The  last 
abbess,  Julie  Sophie,  daughter  of  the  Due  d'Autin 
(the  name  sounds  very  modern  among  the  cloisters 
of  Fontevrault),  arrived  in  a  blaze  of  splendour 
so  contrary  to  the  directions  of  the  pious  Robert 
that  we  can  see  the  final  ruin  of  his  institution  is 
hard  at  hand.  On  the  3d  of  September  1767 
this  gay  exponent  of  monastic  principles  rode  into 
the  abbey  escorted  by  fifty  carabineers  antl  a  jubilant 
band  of  hautbois,  flutes,  and  trumpets  :  in  the  even- 
ing there  were  fireworks  and  a  big  dinner.  The 
abbey  had  outlived  its  meaning  ;  the  revolutionary 
edicts  swept  its  inhabitants  awa}-,  and  this  last  abbess 
died  upon  the  straw  bed  of  a  hospital  in  Paris. 

^  She  was  the  sister  of  Madame  de  Montespan. 


FONTEVRAULT  87 


We  left  the  abbey  echoing  with  the  clank  of  arms 
and  the  trampHng  of  soldiers'  feet,  hired  another 
horse  from  the  little  inn  across  the  street,  and  drove 
quickly  down  the  hill  towards  the  Loire.  The  road 
to  Saumur  turns  sharply  to  the  left  along  the  river 
banks  between  the  low  line  of  the  hills  and  the 
sandy  marshes  of  the  stream.  Farther  along,  the 
slopes  are  dotted  with  black  windmills,  perched  on 
their  tin}-  basements  with  great  arms  wide-spread 
to  the  breeze  ;  and  from  every  part  of  this 
strange  cliff  curl  little  wreaths  of  smoke  from 
hidden  chimneys,  while  a  glint  of  sunlight  on  a 
window-pane,  that  opens  suddenly  within  the  rock 
beneath,  reminds  the  startled  traveller  that  the 
vcr\-  ground  is  teeming  with  inhabitants.^  W'c 
had  noticed  this  strange  sight  before  among  the 
cliffs  of  Rochecorbon,  but  never  had  it  appeared  so 
extraordinar\-.  "  It  seems,"  says  De  \^igny,  speak- 
ing of  the  Tourangeaux,  "  that  in  their  lo\e  for  so 
fair  a  home  ,  .  .  they  have  not  been  willing  to  lose 
the  least  scrap  of  its  soil,  the  least  grain  of  its  sand 
.  .  the  very  rocks  are  inhabited,  and  whole  families 
of  labourers  from  the  \inc)-ards  breathe  the  air  (jf 
these  deep  caverns,  sheltered  at  night  by  the  same 
mother  earth  which  they  have  toiled  to  cultivate  b\' 
day."      .And  near  Saumur  it  is  the  same  ;   fjr  nearly 

'  A  traveller  alony  this  .same  road  to  .Saumur  tells  inc  it  remimleil 
him  <jf  the  d\vellin(;s  he  had  seen  in  Cappadocia  in  1879  ;  he  could  even 
"'-'•'•  'races  of  a  columltarium." 


88  OLD  TOUR  A  IN  E 


eight  miles  along  our  \va\'  these  strange  earth 
dwellings  kept  surprising  us,  until  wc  could  see 
upon  the  slopes  above  us  the  terraces  and  out- 
works of  the  Chateau  of  Saumur,  cut  in  the  thickness 
of  the  cliff  and  strengthened  b}-  long  lines  of  low 
wall. 

The  old  "  INIurus,"  as  this  hill  was  called,  honey- 
combed with  human  burrows,  served  in  realit\'  as  a 
kind  of  last  retreat  and  natural  fortress  to  the  old 
tribes  conquered  by  the  Roman  invaders,  and  upon 
this  slope  grew  the  first  citadel,  the  "  Truncus,"  rising 
like  a  great  oak  stem  above  the  conquered  country, 
and  spreading  out  its  stony  roots  across  the  sand}' 
soil.  The  fortress  that  now  stands  above  the  town, 
"  foursquare  to  all  the  winds  of  heaven,"  was  prob- 
ably begun  by  Geoffre)-  Martel,  son  of  the  Black 
Falcon,  about  1040.  It  shows  signs  of  having  been 
finished  at  a  much  later  date. 

There  is  an  interesting  relic  of  the  Roman  in- 
vaders preserved  in  the  Museum  of  the  Hotel  dc 
Yille,  a  perfect  specimen  of  an  antique  bronze 
trumpet,  curved,  and  with  movable  tubes  to  \ar\- 
the  notes  produced.  But  a  memorial  of  a  far  older 
race  remains  in  the  great  dolmen  about  a  mile  and 
a  half  to  the  south  of  Saumur  along  the  road  to 
IMontreuil.  This  dolmen  is  the  largest  in  this  part 
of  France,  and  well  \\-orth  a  visit  from  the  student 
of  such  antiquities. 

Yet  another  river,  the  Thouet,  joins  the  Loire  close 


FOXTEVKAULT 


to  Saumur,  and  the  town  lies  between  the  two  much 
in  the  position  of  Tours  between  the  Loire  and  Cher. 
The  two  towns  are  alike,  too,  in  the  straight  line  of 
road  that  cuts  through  them  in  the  same  direction  as 
the  bridge,  which  at  Saumur  is  a  double  one,  cross- 
ing the  island  and  joining  both  banks  of  the  Loire. 
It  is  a  fine  piece  of  engineering,  and  was  begun  in 
1786.  This  same  island  has  a  queer  little  history  of 
its  own,  not  without  interest. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,^ 
when  the  good  King  Rene  of  Anjou  was  reigning, 
was  formed,  strangely  enough  under  his  patronage, 
a  little  republic  of  fishermen  and  labourers  upon 
this  tiny  Venice  on  the  Loire,  a  Venice  whose  sole 
palace  was  the  Chateau  de  I'lle  d'Or,  the  home  of 
the  Queen  of  Sicily.  This  strange  community  lived 
a  life  apart  of  hardy  toil  and  independent  work, 
refusing  all  control  save  their  own  rules,  and  owning 
no  man  as  their  master  save  the  chief  whom  the\' 
elected  to  watch  over  the  privileges  of  all  and  to 
conciliate  their  private  quarrels.  Mock  coronations, 
laughing  processions,  bright  gatherings  of  men  and 
maidens,  gaily  went  on  all  the  summer  in  the 
little  island,  and  even  in  the  days  of  Louis  X\'I. 
an  old  sailor  in  the  French  fleet  bore  as  his  proudest 
title  the  name  of  "  Roi  de  la  Rcpublitiuc  de  I'lle 
d'Or."  The  first  "  king  "  was  one  I-'aroncUc,  a  rcn  al 
archer   in    the   guanl   of   Charles   \TI.,   who   did    the 

'   .'^cc  llic  l-.poqiif.s  Siiuniiiroiscs  of  .M.  l!.  Cuiildii. 


90  OLD  TOLrRAJNE 


honours  of  the  island  to  Rene's  daughter,  the  Ouccn 
of  the  Loire,  who  was  to  leave  her  bcaiililul  home 
and  become  the  uncjuiet  Mars^uerite  d'Anjou  (jf  the 
wars  of  York  and  Lancaster.  Then  she  was  escorted 
down  the  river  b}'  this  "  Docje  au  petit  i)ied,"  with  a 
flotilla  of  boats  gaily  decorated  with  draperies  and 
flowers,  on  her  way  to  meet  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  at 
Tours,  who  was  to  bring  her  to  her  English  husband. 

\\\  front  of  the  gardens  of  the  theatre  of  Saumur 
is  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a  very  perfect  example  of  six- 
teenth-centur}'  architectiu'e  with  traces  of  older  work. 
The  transition  from  the  times  (;f  war  to  peace  is 
as  clearly  marked  upon  its  outer  face  as  it  is  on  the 
double  facade  of  Charles  VII.  and  Louis  XIL  at 
Lochcs.  W'illiiii,  the  two  ages  Jiarmonise  more 
perfecth',  and  the  careful  restoration  that  has  been 
carried  out  here  and  there  completes  what  is  still  one 
of  the  finest  buildings  of  the  kind  in  the  province. 
Madame  Dacier  was  born  in  the  Rue  du  Paradis 
near  here,  and  the  memor)'  of  Balzac's  Eugenie 
Grandet  came  to  us  as  we  left  the  town  behind  and 
started  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river  homewards  to 
Tours.^ 

The  railway  keeps  on  this  bank  past  Langeais  to 
Cinq  Mars,  where  it  crosses  over  by  a  bridge  from 
which  the  traveller  has  a   fine  view  of  the  strange 

^  There  was  also  some  severe  fighting  round  Saumur  and  all  through 
the  town  during  the  Vendean  War  :  but  space  forbids  my  speaking  of  it, 
or  indeed  of  many  other  points  of  interest  in  this  town,  which  well 
deserves  a  visit  for  its  own  sake. 


FONTEVRAULT  91 


"  Pile  de  Cinq  ]\Iars,"  which  remains  an  unsolved 
archreological  problem.  The  towers  of  Luynes,  too, 
seen  from  across  the  water,  rise  in  a  cluster  high 
above  the  plain.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  tall 
shaft  of  Cinq  ]\Iars  forms  part  of  an  old  system  of 
signalling  by  beacon  fires,  of  which  Langeais  would 
be  the  last  station  to  the  west,  and  which  flamed 
messages  along  the  valley  past  Luynes  to  the 
Lanterne  of  Rochecorbon,  and  as  far  eastward  as 
Amboisc. 


CHAPTER    VI 


TIIRKK    DL'KKS    OF    ORLEANS 


'■  Ingeniiim  vclox,  audacia  perdila,  scrmo  rromptus." — Juvknai.. 

Tin:  Italian  conversations  which  PhiHppc  do  Corn- 
mines  had  begun  at  the  Court  of  Chinon  were 
-^  ,.  ah'cacK-        under- 


stood and  appre- 
ciated by  a  con- 
siderable section 
of  his  audience  ; 
for  both  as  Dau- 
phin and  as  king, 
Louis  XI.  had 
had  far  more 
intimate  relations 
with  Italy  than 
was  general!}' 
supposed.  But 
the  connection  was  one  of  older  standing  still,  and 
it  is  chiefly  visible  in  the  story  of  that  House  of 
Orleans  which  had  so  many  possessions  in  and  about 


THE    lORCLil.NE.  CADGE  Oi--  LOLIS  XII.  AND   THE    HOUSE 

OK  ORLEA.NS  (from  the  Chateau  of  Blois). 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS  93 


Tourainc,  and  from  that  centre  influenced  the  whole 
of  France.  Louis  XI.  and  his  immediate  successors, 
Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII.,  were  far  more  often  in 
Touraine  than  at  Paris,  and  the  artists  of  Tours  and 
Poitiers  were  as  familiar  with  the  road  to  Rome  as 
were  those  of  Paris  or  of  Dijon.  Tourainc  con- 
sequently became  the  centre  of  the  new  movement 
and  the  home  of  a  strong  and  flourishing  art.  By 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  manufacture 
of  tapestry,^  which  had  not  appeared  as  a  local 
industry  anywhere  else  in  I'rancc,  had  taken  such 
an  impetus  in  Tours  that  it  seemed  likely  to  replace 
the  art  of  painting.  But  long  before  the  centre 
of  the  artistic  movement  changed  to  Paris  under 
Francis  I.,  the  school  of  Tours  had  won  for  itself  a 
leading  position  among  the  artists  of  France,  and 
this  not  only  through  the  example  of  emigrants  from 
Burgundy  like  Michel  Columbe,  for  Touraine  never 
owed  much  to  northern  influences,  but  rather  through 
the  visits  of  its  own  artists  to  Ital}',  such  as  that  of 
Jean    P'ouquet,^  the   painter  of  Louis   XL,  to  Rome, 

'  Mrs.  Mark  I'attison,  Renaissance  of  Art  in  Erance,  vol.  i.  caps.  I 
and  2. 

-  Francesco  Florio,  a  l-'Iorentine  who  lived  some  time  at  Tours, 
mentions  Fouquet  in  1477,  in  a  descri]>tion  of  Touraine  written  to  a 
friend,  as  the  best  painter  of  that  time  in  France  ;  and  Antonio  Filarete 
praises  the  picture  which  Jean  Fouquet  painted  on  canxas  in  the 
Minerva  at  Rome,  rejiresenting  Pope  Kugene  I\'.  with  two  cardinals, 
about  1443.  From  1470  to  1475  he  was  paid  by  Louis  XI.  for  pictures, 
miniatures,  and  the  design  for  a  lond),  but  his  chief  patron  was  Ftienne 
Chevalier,  treasurer  of  Charles  VII.  and  I.KJuis,  for  whom  he  (inished 
the  copy  of  Boccaccio's  "  Des  Cas  des  Nobles  IIoiniiiLS  et   Femuies," 


94  OLD  TOUKAIXE 


and  through  the  many  Italian  artists  who  came  from 
Rome  by  Narbonnc  and  jjassed  throui^h  Touraine 
on  their  way  to  Paris  or  to  ICngland.  Such  a 
traveller,  we  may  suppose,  was  the  unknown  artist 
who  built  the  chateau  of  Iku'}-  in  1502,  for  Flori- 
mond  Robertet.  The  shower  of  Italian  inllucnces 
let  loose  by  the  expedition  of  Charles  VIII.  did  not 
fall  upon  soil  that  was  unprepared  for  it.  Touraine 
and  all  France  were  already  eager  to  learn  more  of 
the  Ital\-  with  which  they  had  begun  to  come  in 
contact.  An  exact  idea  of  this  connection  with 
Italy,  even  though  briefly  stated,  is  absolutcl\- 
necessary  for  the  understanding  of  what  follows 
in  the  history  of  France.^  John  the  Gtjod, 
King  of  France,  who  died  in  1364,  had  a  daughter 
Isabella,  who  married  Gian  Galeazzo  Visconti, 
first  Duke  of  Milan.  The  palace  to  which 
the  French  princess  was  brought  was  filled  with 
priests  and  friars  from  the  Certosa,  with  professors 
from    the    new    college,    with     poets    like    Geoffre}' 

now  at  Munich,  on  24th  November  1458^  and  also  a  prayer-book  in 
which  his  taste  for  Italian  architecture  is  especially  remarkable.  Nine 
of  the  miniatures  in  the  French  translation  of  Josephus  in  the  Bibl.  Nat. 
(Franc.  247)  are  by  Fouquct,  and  again  show  the  strong  Italian  influ- 
ences under  which  he  worked.  Examples  in  England,  either  of  the 
work  of  this  artist  of  Tours,  or  of  his  school,  are  the  illuminations  in 
the  French  "Legend  de  St.  Denys  "  at  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  and  a 
prayer-book  in  the  Bodleian  Library  (Douce,  311).  There  is  also  a 
"  Horarium  Maria;  Virginis"  of  1490  in  the  same  style  at  Cambridge. 
See  Woermann's  History  of  raititiiig. 

^  See  also  the  genealogical  table,  especially  the  houses  of  Orleans, 
Valois,  Visconti,  and  Navarre. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEAXS  95 

Chaucer  and  P"ranccsco  Pctrarca,  with  savants  Hke 
Phihppe  de  iNIezieres.  England,  I^-aiicc,  and  C}-prus 
contributed  to  the  brilliant  societ\-  of  the  \^i.sconti's 
Court,  where  the  young  heiress,  Valentine  Visconti, 
grew  up  with  a  keen  interest  in  all  the  intellectual 
life  before  her,  and  a  quick  wit  to  grasp  the  advan- 
tages of  her  situation  :  for  it  soon  became  exidcnt 
that  this  princess,  "  wise  as  Medea,"  would  marr}- 
into  foreign  Courts  not  only  as  the  daughter  of  Gian 
Galeazzo,  but  as  the  diplomatic  agent  of  the  Duke  of 
Milan.  She  was  a  "slender  woman, ^  rather  tall,  with 
a  long  neck  and  slim  arms,  and  a  bust  both  full  and 
delicate.  The  head  is  small,  the  hair  parted  from 
car  to  ear  across  the  middle  and  looped  in  pendent 
braids  above  the  ear.  Under  this  severe  coiffure  we 
discern  a  serious,  gentle,  placid  face,  long  narrow  eyes, 
a  high  forehead,  a  full  mouth  with  pretty  pursed 
lips." 

In  1389  she  was  sent  over  "  bien  jo}'cllee  et 
aornci'e  dc  joyaux "  to  marry  Louis  d'Orlcans,  the 
handsome  brother  of  Charles  VI.  of  France,  bearing 
with  her  the  Duchy  of  Asti  as  her  dowry,  nearly 
half  a  million  gold  florins,  and  the  i)romise  of  the 
succession  to  Milan  :  it  was  this  last  portion  of  the 
dowry  that  was  to  start  the  quarrel  which  never 
ended  until  ra\ia  ;  but  even  undisputed  Asti  was 
a  very  important  foothold  for  the  i'lviich  in  l.om- 
bardy,  Valentine  made  a  ijublic  cnlr\'  into  Paris 
*  .Mary  Dnrincstctcr,  End  of  the  Middle  yl,:,rs,  \>.  107. 


96  OLD  TOURAIXE 


with  the  Ouccn.^      The  good  citizens  were  too  much 

afraid  of  the  wisdom  of  tlic  Visconti  serpent  to 
bclicxc  it  as  harmless  as  a  dove,  and  this  mistrust 
deepened  in  later  years  into  a  definite  hatred  ; 
but  the  kind-hearted  )'oung  King  took  to  Valen- 
tine at  once,  and  kept  his  liking  for  her  to  the 
end. 

Her  husband  Louis,  then  but  eighteen  and  Duke 
of  Touraine,  was  already  the  first  knight  of  chivalr\-, 
and  among  his  many  passionless  amours  could  find 
but  little  time  for  this  new  Italian  one.  Yet  one 
point  of  contact  the  newly-married  pair  possessed — a 
common  love  of  literature  and  art,  a  love  which  made 
them  still  more  repugnant  to  the  rude  minds  of  a 
comparatively  unlettered  time.  With  him  Valentine 
could  talk  over  the  poems  he  had  made,  or  the 
romances  of  ]\Iaitre  Jean  d'Arras  ;  to  her  he  could 
show,  with    a   full   certainty  of  appreciation,  his   new 

^  Froissart  gives  a  detailed  and  animated  account  of  tliis  entry  :  "  Kt 
encore  n'avait  la  jeune  dame,  qui  s'appelait  \'alentine,  entie  la  cite 
quand  elle  y  entra  premierement  en  la  compagnie  de  la  reinc  de  France." 
The  people  of  Paris  also  presented  her  with  a  magnificent  litter,  as  a 
wedding  present,  carried  by  two  men  dressed  in  rich  Moorish  costumes, 
and  containing  gold  and  silver  plate  to  the  value  of  200  marks. 
"  Le  present  rejouit  grandement  la  duchesse  de  Touraine,  et  ce  fut 
raison,  car  il  etait  beau  et  riche ;  et  remercia  grandement  et  sagement 
ceux  qui  presente  I'avaient,  et  la  bonne  ville  de  Paris  de  qui  le  jirofit 
venait."  Juvenal  des  Ursins  also  comments  on  the  prodigality  of  the 
display  made  on  this  occasion.  For  a  picture  of  a  similar  entry  in 
the  next  reign  see  Bibl.  Nat.  (fonds  Lavalliere,  20361),  C/tromques 
cF Enguc7-rand  de  JMonslrelet,  where  birds  are  being  let  loose  along  the 
roads  as  the  King  beneath  a  canopy  rides  past  a  fountain  guarded  by 
two  anaels. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS  97 

Lhie  dc  la  iiaissaiicc  de  tonics  clioscs,  just  bought 
from  Jacques  Jchau  his  friend,  or  discuss  the  black 
velvet  binding  of  his  new  translation  of  the  Bible 
with  its  silver  clasps  enamelled  with  the  arms  of 
Orleans.^ 

But  in  1392  the  little  leisure  Louis  gave  from 
politics  to  literature  was  interrupted  by  the  news  of 
the  first  outbreak  of  the  King's  madness  near  Mans.'- 
"  The  King  was  mad,"  murmured  the  people,  "  and 
the  King's  brother  was  a  wizard."  In  the  next  year 
his    illness    was    increased    by    the    accident   of  the 

^  See  the  catalogue  of  Charles  d'Orleans'  books  in  the  Bodleian 
Librar)-. 

-  Froissart  relates  what  happened. 

Early  in  the  hot  summer's  day,  in  the  forest  of  Mans,  a  man  dressed 
in  white  had  suddenly  rushed  from  among  the  trees  to  the  King's  bridle, 
crying,  "  Roi,  ne  chevauche  plus  en  avant,  mais  retourne  !  car  tu  es  train." 
The  King  was  much  moved  ;  "son  esprit  fremit  et  son  sang  se  mcla 
tout. "  Later  on,  about  midday,  as  he  rode  beneath  a  burning  sun  that 
scorched  the  sandy  road  and  beat  upon  his  black  velvet  jacket  and  tlie 
scarlet  cap  upon  his  head,  a  careless  page  let  fall  a  lance  upon  the 
helmet  of  his  comrade.  The  King,  fancying,  at  the  clash  of  steel,  that  he 
was  attacked  by  traitors,  rushed  upon  his  brother  of  Orleans  with  sword 
drawn,  and  wa.s  with  difficulty  restrained  from  killing  and  wountling  all 
in  his  path.  At  last  he  lost  consciousness  altogether.  "  Et  hii  tour- 
naient  a  la  fois  moult  merveilleusement  les  yeux  en  la  tete,  ni  a  nullui 
il  ne  parlait."  The  same  author  describes  the  fetes  at  the  Hotel  Saint 
Pol  in  January  1393,  when,  in  a  scene  which  might  have  suggested  to 
Edgar  Allan  Poe  one  of  his  most  ghastly  stories,  the  King  and  five 
courtiers  (including  the  Norman  who  had  suggested  the  unlucky  freak) 
came  in  dresst^d  as  savages  in  rough  flax.  The  Duke  of  Orleans 
imprudently  put  a  torch  too  near  this  inllamniable  material  and  in  an 
instant  there  was  a  quick  blaze  and  shrieks  of  pain.  Eorlunalcly  the 
King  was  not  joined  in  the  circle  with  the  other  five  but  dancing 
Sfj«irately,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Ikrri  saved  him  by  wrapi)ii)g  her  cloak 
round  the  flames,  but  iiis  reason  never  recovered  the  shock.  Fur  a 
picture  of  the  whole  see  iJibl.  Nat.  M.SS.  Fr.,  No.  2046. 

VOL.  I  II 


98  OLD  TOURAINE 


flaming  satyrs  at  a  masked  ball,  and  the  people 
cried  out  that  the  old  \'isconti  was  a  wizard  too, 
and  through  his  daughter  cast  his  spells  upon  the 
King  of  France.  But  Valentine  was  far  from  acting 
up  to  such  a  part.  For  hours  she  would  patiently 
sit  pla\-ing  cards  with  the  poor  mad  King  in  his 
dark  lonely  rooms,  and  soothe  him  with  the  accents 
of  the  only  voice  that  he  could  bear  with  patience.^ 
Even  this  gentle  influence  was  misconstrued  :  the 
people  were  wild  with  terror  of  an  unknown  danger, 
"  a  contagion  of  fear  paralysed  the  sources  of  life." 
Amidst  all  this  horror  and  uncertainty  Wilcntine 
left  Paris  for  the  Loire. 

Meanwhile  the  Duke  of  Milan  was  sending  not 
charms  or  poisons  but  ambitious  advice  to  Louis 
d'Orleans  as  to  an  empire  to  be  won  in  Adria, 
and  a  centre  of  his  power  at  Asti  ;  and  when  these 
plans  were  thwarted  by  the  King  of  France,  Gian 
Galeazzo  tried  to  enforce  his  policy  by  annulling 
Valentine's    claim    to   the    inheritance  of  Milan,  by 

^  He  had  no  knowledge  (writes  Juvenal  dcs  Ursins  of  the  King  in 
1393)  of  man  or  woman,  save  of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans;  "caril  la 
voyait  et  regardait  tres  volontievs,  et  I'appelait  belle  soeur.  Et  comme 
souvent  il  y  a  de  mauvaises  langues,  on  disait  et  publiait  aucuns  qu'elle 
I'avait  ensorcele,  par  le  moyen  de  son  pere  le  due  de  Milan,  qui  etait 
Lombard,  et  qu'en  son  pays  on  usait  de  telles  choses." 

For  a  portrait  of  this  historian,  who  was  peculiarly  fitted  for  giving 
a  close  account  of  this  reign,  see  the  picture  in  the  Museum  at  Versailles 
of  "Jean  Jouvenel  des  Ursins  "  (with  a  long  sword  and  murderous  spurs), 
"  prevot  des  marchands  de  Paris,  et  Michelle  de  Vitry  sa  femme."  See 
also  in  the  Louvre,  Ecole  Fran9aise,  No.  652,  a  fine  portrait  of  Des 
Ursins,  who  was  Chancellor  of  France  under  Charles  VIL  and  Louis 
XI. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEAXS  99 

double  dealings  with  the  Turk,  and  other  question- 
able methods  of  Italian  stratagem.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  Louis  d'Orleans  was  feeling  too  strong  to  need 
his  help,  or  indeed  that  of  any  man.  Before  his 
death  he  was  Duke  of  Orleans,^  Lord  of  \'alois  and 
Beaumont,  of  Asti  and  \"crtus,  of  Soissons,  Blois, 
and  Dreux,  with  many  other  dignities,  and  he  used 
his  power  unthinkingly  for  his  own  ends  and  un- 
restrainedly, with  all  the  resources  of  a  man  of 
intellect  unfettered  by  enfeebling  scruples. 

Already  an  Augustine  Friar,  Jacques  Legrand, 
had  boldly  preached  before  the  Court  against  licen- 
tiousness of  manners,  and  had  greatly  moved  the  poor 
half-witted  King.  It  was  no  new  thing  for  t}'rann}' 
and  incompetence  in  rulers  to  be  swiftly  punishcd.- 
All  attempts  to  reconcile  Orleans  with  the  house 
of  Burgundy  had  failed  ;  he  was  becoming  hated  by 
his  own  party   for   the   effrontery  of  his  amours,  and 

1  The  King  gave  his  brother  Louis  the  Duchy  of  Orleans  in  1391, 
which  had  reverted  to  the  crown  after  the  death  of  Philip,  Duke  of 
Orleans.  This  was  much  objected  to  at  the  time  by  the  people  of 
Orleans,  as  contrary  to  former  promises,  but  the  gift  remained  a  matter 
of  iz.c\..—Juvi'tial  dcs  Urshis. 

-  At  this  lime  the  Queen  and  the  Duke  of  Orleans  were  fearfully 
mismanaging  the  kingdom  during  the  illness  of  the  King.  "  lis  etaient 
ilevenus  un  objet  de  scandale  pour  la  France  et  la  fable  des  nations 
ctrangercs." — Kiligicttx  dc  Saint  Dcitis.  At  last  one  was  found  bold 
enough  to  speak  out  what  every  one  felt  and  was  afraid  to  utter. 
"  I  will  speak  the  truth,"  said  Legrand  in  his  sermon  before  the 
Queen,  "la  dcessc  Venus  rcgne  scule  a  votrc  cour  ;  Tivressc  ct  la 
dcb.iuchc  lui  scrvcnt  de  cortege."  .  .  .  On  the  day  of  Tcntecost 
following  he  preached  before  the  jxior  King  himself,  who  sat  imme- 
diately in  front  and  listened  carefully. — Ibid. 


OLD   TOCRAINE 


by  the  rest  for  the  oppression  necessitated  by  the 
expenses  of  his  kixury.  The  down-trodden  people 
I)raycd,  "  Jesus  Christ  in  Heaven,  send  Thou  some 
one  to  deHver  us  from  Orleans."  And  a  deliverer 
appeared,  if  it  is  just  to  call  a  murderer  so — John, 
the  impetuous  son  of  the  dead  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
On  the  23d  of  November  1407  Orleans  was  sup- 
ping alone  with  the  Ouccn  when  a  message  came 
that  he  must  go  at  once  to  the  King.  Almost 
alone,  and  reckless  and  gay  as  ever,  he  rode  through 
the  dark  streets  of  Paris  to  his  brother's  house, 
when  he  was  murdered  by  the  hired  assassins  of 
Jean  Sans  Peur.^ 

The  clever  and  capricious  Louis  d'Orlcans  was 
dead.  In  hiin  died  the  most  ambitious  of  a  bold  and 
gallant  race  ;  a  thinker,  a  savant,  an  innovator,  a 
friend  of  poetry  and  letters,  with  an  "  extreme  facilit\- 
of  eloquence,"  the  very  embodiment  of  unprincipled 
I-'rcnch  strength,  which,  wedded  to  the  Italian 
suppleness  and  finesse  of  Valentine,  was  to  pro- 
duce   the    French    Renaissance.-       Valentine "    was 

'  As  he  was  passing  the  Porte  Barbette,  eighteen  men  nulled  out  on 
him,  and  at  the  first  blow  cut  off  his  hand  with  an  axe.  Then  by 
strength  of  numbers  they  forced  him  off  his  mule  and  beat  his  brains  out 
in  the  road.  His  page,  a  young  German,  tried  to  protect  his  master  l)y 
covering  him  with  his  body,  but  only  shared  his  death. — MoiisfrcLt. 

See  the  shorter  account  given  h)y  Saint  Gelais. 

-  See  the  portrait  of  Louis  d'Orlcans  drawn  by  the  Religieux  de 
Saint  Denis. 

It  was  this  "  merveilleuse  facilite  d't-loculion "  that  was  faintly 
reproduced  in  the  elegant  versification  of  his  son,  Charles  the  poet. 

*  See  the  picture  of  \'alentine  \'i>conti  in  the  Museum  at  Blois. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  OKLEAXS 


overwhelmed  with  grief,  and  she  never  recovered 
from  the  shock.  Her  two  elder  sons  were  sent  to 
Blois  to  forget  their  cares  in  the  garden  full  of  rare 
flowers  and  in  the  library,  over  T/tc  Battle  and 
Destruction  of  Troy,  or  the  mutilated  copy,  bound  in 
red  leather,  of  the  History  of  Ki)ig  Arthur  and  the 
Holy  Grail. 

Of  all  her  children  only  the  bastard  Dunois, 
who  "  had  been  stolen  from  her,"  had  enough  courage 
for  the  task  of  vengeance  in  the  future  ;  that  satis- 
faction in  the  present  was  impossible  soon  became 
evident.  !Maitre  Jean  Petit  in  Paris  had  accused 
Louis  of  "  sorcery,  high  treason  against  God,  and 
regicide  high  treason  against  the  King.^  Charles 
himself,  in  letters  of  pardon  to  Burgundy,  announced 
that  "  out  of  faith  and  loyalty  to  us,  he  has  caused 
to  be  put  out  of  the  world  our  brother  of  Orleans." 
Poor  Valentine  returned  to  Blois  with  Dunois  and 
her  children,'-  Charles,  the  father  of  Louis  XII.,  John, 
the  grandfather  of  P^rancis  L,  and  Philip,  Count  of 
Vertus.      Here  she  ceaselessly  taught  and  cared   for 

'  Monslrdct  gives  the  extraordinary  accusation  of  Jean  I'elit  at  full 
length.  "  II  represcnta  le  due  conime  un  honime  souille  dc  tous  les 
vices,"  says  the  Rcligieux  de  Saint  Denis,  commenting  on  this  same 
f>ne-sidcd  harangue. 

•  Saint  Gelais  adds  that  her  daughter  married  into  the  house  of 
IJriltany,  and  was  the  grandmother  of  Anne  dc  Hretagnc,  wife  of 
Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII.  of  France.  "Or  peut  chacun  con- 
sidtrer,"  he  continues,  "en  quelle  desolaticm  demeura  cette  Ires  nolile 
dame  Valentine  .  .  .  tous  nobles  c<eurs  en  devaient  avoir  grande 
pilie."  She  UxtV.  as  the  motto  of  her  sadness,  "  Kien  nc  m'c»t  i>lus 
plus  nc  m'est  ricn." 


OLD  TOUR  A  IN  E 


them,  and  hoped  for  venc^eancc  for  a  year,  until  her 
heart  broke. 

Fortune  was  not  kind  to  tlic  }-oung  Charles  in 
his  early  days.  Apart  from  the  terrible  bereave- 
ments that  had  just  so  suddenly  fallen  upon  him,  he 
had  also  to  deal  with  a  very  real  distress  in  money 
matters,  produced  b)'  his  father's  numerous  debts, 
and  in  1409  his  first  wife,  Princess  Isabelle,  died  in 
childbed.  No  wonder  that,  amid  so  many  shocks, 
Charles  could  not  do  much.  He  found  himself  at 
the  head  of  the  Armagnac  party  against  Burgundy. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  still  merely  the  standard 
round  w^hich  Armagnac  (whose  daughter  Bonne  was 
his  second  wife)  rallied  the  southern  forces.  The 
strange  nature  of  society  at  this  time  had  produced 
a  series  of  duels  between  the  great  feudal  princes, 
in  which  a  weak  and  vacillating  royalty  sometimes 
sided  with  one  and  sometimes  with  another.  In  all 
this  Charles  could  not  distinguish  yet  that  his  part}- 
was  the  true  national  part}-,  the  part}^  of  Joan  of 
Arc  and  of  France.  But  if  his  aims  were  not  yet 
clear  to  him,  his  spirit  was  active  and  courageous. 
It  is  only  later  ^  that  it  ga\e  in  under  capti\it\',  and 
Charles  d'Orleans  took  "  Nonchaloir  "  for  his  device, 
"Insouciance"  for  consolation,  and  "Resignation" 
for  his  God. 

At   last,  in    14 10,  preparations  began    in  earnest 

^  See  K.   L.   Stevenson's  somewhat  depreciatory  sketch  of  Charles 
d'Orleans  in  Men  and  Books,  p.  236. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS 


for  war.  Armagnac  joined  in  one  great  national 
part}-  the  lords  of  Orleans,  Bcrri,  Bourbon,  l^re- 
tagne,  and  Alencon.  In  July  Charles  is  at  Amboise, 
in  December  at  Blois,  collecting  money,  and  the 
next  summer  his  defiance  is  sent  to  Burgund)',  and 
deep  offence  given  to  the  King  of  France.  lUit 
there  was  a  rapid  change.  The  momentary  political 
blunder  of  his  alliance  with  England  was  remedied 
by  his  reconciliation  to  Burgundy  at  Blois,  and 
the  }-ears  141 3  and  14 14  are  those  of  Charles's 
greatest  glory.  By  the  Crown  are  restored  all  his 
possessions,  and  from  the  University  of  Paris  arrive 
learned  congratulations.  That  strange  "  grace  de 
famille  "  which  Charles  pre-eminently  possessed  com- 
pletely fascinated  the  poor  King,  and  the  Due 
d'Orleans,  when  he  was  taken  prisoner  at  Agincourt,^ 
was  one  of  the  most  popular  young  princes  in 
France. 

On  an  October  morning  in  141 5,  when  the 
English  searched  the  battlefield  after  their  victor)-, 
Charles  was  found   still  alive  amid   a   heap   of  dead 

'  Monslrelet  tells  us  that  Orleans  was  knighted,  wiili  several  otliers, 
just  before  the  battle,  after  a  reconnaissance  in  force  which  he  had  led 
with  the  ConUe  de  Richeinont.  The  vanguard,  on  the  day  of 
Agincourt,  was  led  by  the  Constable,  and  with  him  the  Dukes  of 
Orleans  and  Bourbon,  the  Counts  d'Ku  and  Richeniont,  and  others. 
Juvenal  des  Ursins  gives  an  account  of  the  speech  in  which  the 
King  of  Kngland  in  plain  terms  gives  the  reasons  for  their  defeat  to  the 
French  nobles.  Tho.se  reasons  were  the  misgovernment  and  ruin 
already  mentioned  in  connection  with  Louis  d'Orleans.  "  God,"  said 
the  English  King,  "is  against  you  because  of  your  sins."  "...  ils 
dcrobaient  lout  le  peuple  ct  Ic  delruisaient  sans  rai^o^.'' 


104  OLD  TOURAINE 


and  dying,  and  by  the  next  month  was  safely  lodged 
in  the  Tower  of  London,  where,  with  rare  change.s 
to  other  places,  such  as  Ampthill  and  W'ingficld,  he 
remained  for  twenty-five  years.  Here,  where  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  lost  his  crown,  the  world  gained 
those  poems  by  which  he  tried,  with  memories  of 
the  past  and  graceful  fancies  of  the  future,  to  lighten 
the  captivity  that  changed  him  into  the  heavy  old 
man  of  his  later  life. 

In  politics  his  place  is  a  curious  one  :  he  was 
a  remnant  of  the  front  rank  that  fell  at  Agincourt, 
and  by  its  fall  made  easier  the  levelling  policy  of 
Louis  XI.  He  was  the  "  Sleeping  Beauty  of 
Feudalism,"  ^  who  fell  asleep  when  the  great  lords 
were  fcaidal  gods,  and  awoke  in  a  France  that  had 
begun  to  realise  the  power  of  royalty.  His  position 
as  a  poet  is  as  strange.  His  verses  are  still  charm- 
ing, for  he  was  a  poet  of  no  school,  and,  like  so 
many  unknown  ballad -writers  of  the  time,  sang 
naturally  and  easily  as  the  lark  beneath  the  open 
sky.  They  were  written  at  the  very  beginning  of 
the  poetic  fervour  brought  on  b}-  the  Renaissance, 
and  at  the  very  birth  of  the  new  art  of  printing  ; 
but  they  were  as  little  known  in  his  own  day  as 
they  were  recognised  by  later  times,  and  this  becau.se 
their  pure  "  finesse  "  was  out  of  place  in  a  century 
to  which   Villon    only   appealed   by   his    intellectual 

1  M.  Charles  d'Hericault,  Preface  to  Poesies  Completes  de  Charles 
(T Orleans.     Jannet  Picard,  1874. 


THREE  Dl'KES  OF  ORLEANS  105 

vigour  and  his  popular  grossness.  In  an  age  when 
ease,  simplicit\',  and  grace  were  sacrificed  to  imita- 
tions of  the  classics,  his  poems  were  equally  disdained 
by  the  exclusive  and  pedantic  school,  to  whom 
Charles  d'Orleans  was  as  "  profanum  vulgus."  The 
imprisonment  that  gave  their  originality  to  Charles's 
verses  freed  them  also  from  the  fetters  of  an  Alain 
Chartier  or  a  Meschinot.^  The  delicacy  of  his  touch 
may  be  seen  in  the  lines  of  the  fourteenth  Rondeau 
in  Hericault's  edition — 

"  Les  en  voulez-vous  gardcr 
Ces  rivieres  de  courir,'" 

or  in  the  numerous  sonnets  to  Springtime,  such  as — 

"  Le  temps  a  laissie  son  manteau 
De  vent,  de  froidure  et  de  pluye ; " 

or  in  the  sad  lines  to  Old  Age  (Rondeau  ccxci.) — 

"  A  I  que  vous  m'enniiycz,  X'ieillesse." 

Many  of  these  were  written  in  the  last  years  of 
his  life,  many  (some  of  them  in  I*lnglish,  too}  in  the 
long  days  of  his  captivity,  in  which  he  lingered  on 
amid  vain  hopes  of  release.  Henry  V.  died  giving 
no  word  of  hope.  D'.Mcncon  and  D'lui  had  left 
their  prisons,  but  Charles  d'Orleans  refused  to  recog- 
nise the  English  King  as  suzerain.  It  was  Jeanne 
d'Arc  who  really   made  the   first    step   towards    his 

'  Mcsthinot,  for  instance-,  wioic  "pDciii-.  wliicli  can  l/c  read  in  thiily 
(liflTtTcnt  ways,  any  word  being  as  goorl  to  l)cgin  with  as  any  oilier."— 
Sainlii'tiiy. 


io6  OLD  TOURAINR 

deliverance,  Jeanne  who  must  have  thought  of  him 
while  she  took  English  prisoners  for  exchange,  and 
who  delivered  his  Orleans,  which  was  besieged  con- 
trary to  all  promises  made  him  by  the  English  King. 
But  his  estate  languished  without  him.  Dunois 
had  been  captured,  and  the  messenger  who  brought 
ill  news  said  nothing  of  the  good  work  that  his 
friends  were  doing.  Already,  in  1427,  hearing  in 
the  Tower  of  London  of  the  English  advance  along 
the  Loire,  Charles  had  feared  for  his  books  at  l^lois, 
and  sent  them  by  the  Seigneur  de  IMortcmart  to  his 
house  in  Saumur.  They  were  moved  farther  on  to 
La  Rochelle,  until  eight  years  later,  the  danger 
having  passed,  Charles  writes  to  have  them  sent 
back  to  Blois,  and  directs  especial  search  to  be 
made  at  Orleans  for  a  cherished  little  volume 
stamped  with  the  arms  of  Berry. 

In  1433  he  uselessly  gave  in  his  submission  to 
the  King  of  luigland,  \\ho,  as  the  grandson  of 
Charles  VI.,  was  posing  as  the  real  heir  of  Erance. 
But  seven  more  years  dragged  on  before  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  son  of  Jean  Sans  Pcur, 
arranged  his  deliverance.  It  was  granted  now,  for 
the  policy  of  England  was  at  this  time  to  weaken 
the  royal  power  by  encouraging  the  great  barons,  as 
it  had  been  before  to  weaken  feudality  b\'  keeping 
Orleans  prisoner.      At  last  his  cry  was  answered. 

"  Qui  ni'ostera  de  ce  tourment 
II  m'achctera  plaincmcnt. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS  107 

A  tousjoursmos  ^  heritage 

Tout  sien  seray,  sans  changement, 

Mettroye  corps  et  ame  en  gage." 

His  marriage  with  Marie  de  Clex'cs  (liis  second 
wife  was  dead  long  ago)  produced  enough  monc)'  by 
her  dowry  to  bring  his  ransom  within  the  bounds  of 
possibiHt}-.  The  friendship  of  Charles  d'Orlcans  with 
the  son  of  his  father's  murderer  is  an  interesting  and 
touching  trait  in  this  strange  story  of  his  release. 
His  dreamy,  romantic  nature  was  not  made  for  the 
sterner  necessities  of  revenge.^ 

In  1440  he  returned  to  France  with  all  the  ideas 
of  141  5,  and  took  up  his  abode  at  Blois,  where  his 
"  good  fat  face,"  his  strong  Italian  nose  and  chin,  are 
seen  among  physicians  and  astronomers,  watching 
over  his  choir,  listening  to  the  harpers,  and  reading 
the  ballads  that  everybody  wrote  to  please  him  :  no 
one  paid  the  least  attention  to  Charles's  own  verses, 
the  only  ones  that  were  to  live.  During  the  first 
few  years  of  freedom,  the  time  there  was  left  to  him 
from  the  business  of  collecting  his  ransom,  to  which 
every  one  contributed,  he  spent  in  happily  wandering 
about  and  ".seeing   France""  after  his  long   absence, 

'  "Or  voycz  que  c'est  des  jiigcmcnls  de  Dicu.  Car  les  pi.res  de  ccs 
deux  seigneurs  avaient  ete  les  plus  grands  eniKrniis  (|ui  onctpies  furent." 
— Saint  Gelais. 

-  "  Et  la  (Dlois)  et  aillcurs  jiarlout  oii  il  passa,  le  peujjle  en  etait 
aussi  rejoui  que  si  c'eut  (-le  un  ange  qui  ful  descendu  du  ciel,"  .says  .Saint 
Gclai.s.  The  .same  author  tells  us  that  at  this  time  Charles  d'Orleans 
insli"""!  nn  order  or  livery,  called   "  Lc  Camail,"  on  which  Inm^;  a 


loS  OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


just  as  some  years  after  he  travels  abroad  and 
dreamil)'  inspects  his  property  at  Asti.  He  took  his 
pleasures  gently  ;  old  age  was  coming  on  him  all 
the  quicker  for  his  long  caplivit}-  ;  and  he  li\cd 
quietly  in  his  home  at  IMois. 

"  I'oiirce  qu'on  jouxtc  ;i  la  quintaine 
A  Oilcans  jc  tire  a  Blois, 
Je  mc  sens  foule  du  harnois 
Et  veulx  rcprcndre  mon  alaine." 

In  1444  he  had  the  pleasure  of  leading  his  own 
old  gaoler,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  from  Blois  to  Tours, 
where  the  peace  was  made  that  followed  the  marriage 
of  ^Marguerite  d'.Vnjou,  and  Charles  seems  to  have 
celebrated  the  occasion  with  much  light-heartedness. 

"  Durant  les  Ireves  d'An^letcrre 
Qui  ont  este  faittes  a  Tours, 
Par  bon  conseil,  avcc  Amours 
J'ai  prins  abstinence  de  guerre." 

But  he  found  himself  compelled  at  last  to  go 
abroad.  In  1422,  John  and  Charles  d'Orleans  being 
both  in  prison  and  Henry  VI.  of  England  crowned 
King  of  France,  Asti  had  sent  for  protection  to 
h'ilippo  Maria  Visconti,  Duke  of  Milan.  Three  }-ears 
before  Charles's  deliverance  Francesco  Sforza  was 
in    possession    at  .Asti    as    lieutenant  ;     but    shortK' 

hedgehog,  which  was  given  as  an  honourable  badge  to  several  of  the 
notable  French  knights. 

His  son,  Louis  XII.,  used  the  porcupine  as  his  badge,  which  is  still 
carve<l  on  the  walls  of  the  Chateau  of  Rlois. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS  109 

afterwards  Dunois  went  out  to  carry  on  negotiations 
and  open  up  the  quarrel  afresh.  The  old  Duke  of 
]Milan  wearily  got  rid  of  him  ;  but  another  factor 
appeared  in  the  Dauphin  Louis,  whose  alliance  with 
Milan  soon  became  clear,  and  Dunois,  enraged,  insisted 
on  Asti  being  immediately  given  up  ;  this  was  done,  for 
Francesco  Sforza  was  playing  for  the  higher  stake  of 
Milan,  after  the  duke's  death,  against  the  unexpected 
heir,  Alfonso  of  Arragon,  King  of  Naples.  Then 
Charles  d'Orleans  himself  came  out  to  Asti,  but  only 
to  make  promises  to  Venice,  to  lay  great  stress  on 
the  real  friendship  between  himself  and  Burgund}-, 
and  to  do  nothing  more  practical  than  rhyming  verses 
with  Antonio  Artesano.  The  hesitation  of  Charles 
gave  Francesco  Sforza  his  opportunil}-  ;  lie  rode  into 
star\'ing  Milan  with  his  soldiers'  armour  hidden  b\- 
the  welcome  loaves  of  bread,  and  took  the  cit}-. 
This  was  as  unwelcome  to  the  Dauphin  as  its  occupa- 
tion by  Charles  d'Orleans  would  ha\e  been,  but  a 
sudden  rise  of  independent  spirit  repulsed  for  a 
time  the  French  claims  on  Milan  and  on  Genoa  too. 
Charles  had  gone  home  again  with  much  new  learn- 
ing in  Italian  rhymes  and  fashions,  many  new  ideas  on 
dress  and  arms  and  architecture,  which  were  to  be 
worked  out  as  opportunity  should  ser\e  at  his  own 
Court.  'lliere  was  great  economy  in  this  {juiel 
little  hou.schold  at  IJlois,  but  it  was  .soon  lighted  uj) 
by  the  presence  of  )-(Hmg  Tierre  de  I^ourbon,  who 
was  adopted    into   the  famil)-.      In   1457  a  daughter, 


OLD  TOURAINE 


Marie,  was  most  unexpectedly  born    to   the    house 

of  Orleans,  and  amoni^^  the  first  coni^raUilalions 
were  the  verses  of  the  poet  Villon,  who,  until 
1465,  held  a  small  position  in  the  Court  at  Blois. 
He  sings  of  the  )-oung  princess  ^  with  \arious 
tags  of  Latin  such  as  Charles  himself  lo\-cd  to  put 
into  his  rh}'mes,  feeling  a  little  constrained  at  the 
sudden  change  from  his  usual  vigorous  language 
to  the  phrases  of  a  courtly  salutation.  ]5ut  a  still 
greater  astonishment  was  to  come. 

In  1462  Charles  was  receiving  the  amused  and 
delighted  congratulations  of  the  whole  of  France  at 
the  birth  of  the  young  son  who  was  to  become  Louis 
Xn.  This  event  was  not  only  startling  but  positively 
distasteful  to  Louis  XI.,  who  had  quite  looked  forward 
to  quietly  absorbing  -  the  possessions  of  the  heirless 
Duke  of  Orleans  into  the  Crown  domain,  and  indeed 
came  to  l^lois  that  \'cry  year  to  try  and  get  Asti  from 
him.  But  he  failed,  and  the  elegant  and  picturesque 
life  at  the  chateau  went  on  gravely  and  quietly  as 
ever,  amid  a  twittering  of  ballads  and  the  sound 
of  minstrels'  singing,  while  X'illon,  Rene  d'Anjou, 
Robertet,  Jacques  de  la  Tremouille,  or  Houiainxilliers 
came  and  played  chess  ^  with  the  old  duke,  or  wrote 

^  Of  Charles's  two  daughters,  one  married  the  Comte  de  Foix,  the 
other  was  an  Abbess  of  Fontevrault. 

-  Compare  the  policy  of  the  same  King  later  on  in  marrying  this  very 
child  Louis  to  Jeanne  de  France,  with  the  expressed  desire  of  bringing 
the  line  of  Orleans  to  an  end. 

^  From  a  miniature  in  a  fifteenth-century  M.S.,  "  Les  Trois  Ages  de 
I'Homme,"  supposed  to  be  by  Estienne  I'orchier,  we  can  imagine  what  a 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS 


him  pla\-ful  roundels,  until  at  se\cnt}--four  years  of 
age  Charles  died,  "  in  all  the  practices  of  Christian 
charity,"  at  Amboise.^ 

The  young  Louis  d'Orlcans  had  been  told  b)-  his 
mother  of  the  claims  of  Valentine  Visconti  ;  but  the 
influence  of  the  house  of  Orleans  in  Itah',  espccialK' 
after  Dunois'  death,  was  very  weak,  and  for  some 
time  young  Louis  himself  felt  the  pressure  of  the 
King's  policy  of  consistently  weakening  the  noble 
houses,  until  he  was  forced  into  marrying  the  de- 
formed Jeanne  de  France  much  against  his  will." 
But  at  twenty  we  hear  of  him  as  the  best  archer, 
horseman,  and  man-at-arms  at  Court,  and  when, 
some  ten  years  later,  the  pressure  on  him  was  relieved 
by  the  death  of  Louis  XL,  he  at  once  began  to 
flourish  and  grow  strong  in  spite  of  the  opposition 
of  Anne  de  Beaujeu,  Regent  for  the  }-oung  Charles 
\'I1I.  But  Anne  was  too  capable  to  be  lightly  put 
aside.  \\"ith  all  her  father's  vigour  and  astuteness, 
she  favoured  the  cause  of  civil  war  in  England,  she 
encouraged  revolt  in  Flanders,  and  having  shaken 
off  possible  foreign  foes,  she  hurled  the  rojal  army 
commanded  by  La  Trcmouille  against   the   l^rcton, 

game  of  chess  looked  like  at  this  time.  J'(jiir  men  are  siandiiiL;  rmnul 
the  Ixjard  and  watching,  one  player  with  his  piece  lifted  wails  while 
he  thinks  over  his  move.  This  player  has  been  thought  to  be  Louis  XI. 
in  one  of  the  rooms  at  I'lessisdez-Tours, 

'  Sec  the  portrait  of  Charles  d'Ork'ans  by  Rulmann,  after  a  minia- 
ture on  vellum  in  the  I{ibli<jtheque  Royale. 

'  She  was  "  sterile,  brutta  c  quasi  uno  mostro,"  says  Guicciaidini, 
Storia  Fioretitina  {open  ittcditc,  vol.  iii.),  p.  183. 


OLD  TOCRAIXE 


German,  and  En£::flish  forces  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
conquered  him  at  Saint  Aubin  chi  Cormier,^  and 
throw  him  into  prison.  l^ut  Louis  had  not  allowed 
schemes  of  revolt  to  take  up  all  his  da)'s  in  Brittan\- : 
he  found  time  to  make  love  to  the  ambitious  little 
heiress,  Anne  de  Bretagnc,  who  had  been  by  no 
means  satisfied  with  her  marriage  b)'  proxy  to  the 
Emperor  Maximilian. -  This  was  not  unknown  to 
Anne  de  I^eaujeu,  and  Louis  d'Orlcans  was  offered 
his  freedom  if  he  could  arrange  a  marriage  be- 
tween Charles  VIII.  and  i\nne.  He  accomplished 
this  somewhat  delicate  mission  successful!}-,  and  re- 
turned home,  to  the  warlike  Court  of  Charles  VIII., 
where  the  cautious  Mar^chal  de  Gie  was  vainly 
stri\-ing  to  suppress  the  military  aspirations  of  the 
King. 

These  dreams  of  conquest  were  further  encouraged 
by  the  embassy  of  Venice  asking  for  help  against 
Naples,  Milan,  and  Ferrara.  The  policy  of  Louis  XI. 
began  to  bear  fruit,  Louis  d'Orlcans  himself  had 
already  been  offered  Milan  in  the  place  of  Ludovico 
il  Moro,  who  had  seized  the  Regency,  but  this  offer 
at  first  came  to  nothing  amid  the  constant  changes 
of  Italian  intrigue.  At  last,  in  1494,  Ludovico  was 
hailed  Duke  of  Milan,  and  called  in  the  French  to 
help   him,   adroitly    reminding    Charles    of   the    old 

^  See  Me  moires  de  la  Trcmotiille,  .\iv.  140. 

-  "  L'envoye  imperial  (un  niaigre  seigneur  allemand)  placa,  selon 
I'usage,  sa  jambe  nue  dans  le  lit  de  la  jeune  Duchesse.      Mais  Madame 


Anne  nc  fut  pas  contente. " — Coigiiet. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEANS 


claim  to  Naples.^  In  this  extraordinary  Italian 
expedition  Orleans  met  Charles  at  Asti,  and  was 
obliged  to  stay  there  ill  near  II  j\Ioro,  who  was  trying 
to  guide  this  tempestuous  invasion  that  seemed  likely 
to  have  far  more  success  than  he  had  bargained  for. 
Knowing  that  his  claims  would  not  be  allowed,  but 
encouraged  by  secret  offers  of  help  from  Venice, 
Orleans  soon  began  to  claim  Milan  for  himself;  but 
Ludovico  Sforza's  subtle  polic)-  necessitated  not  only 
the  revoking  of  the  im[)erial  letters  with  which 
II  Moro  had  provided  himself,  but  quite  new  letters 
establishing  the  Visconti  claim.  Sforza's  title  had 
been  gravely  recognised,  too,  in  \^enice  before  the 
imperial  ambassadors.  Nothing  remained  but  an 
appeal  to  arms.  So,  quite  contrary  to  orders,  Orleans 
sent  twenty  knights  forward  suddenly  to  occupy 
Novara,  and  before  the  month  was  out  had  seized 
the  town.  His  next  step  should  have  been  an 
immediate  attack  on  Milan,  but  he  foolishly  waited 
till  Milan  was  protected  and  Novara  closely  sur- 
rounded by  the  enemy.  I'hree  fearful  months  of 
siege  followed,  in  which  the  duke  endeared  himself 
to  his  soldiers   by    his   brave  endurance  of  the   same 

'  It  is  iinpossiljli;  to  j^ive  in  one  short  chapter  all  the  turtuous  chanj^es 
of  Italian  politics  at  this  lime.  The  actual  state  of  affairs  at  the  l)ej;in- 
ning  of  1494  was,  that  Ludovico  was  Regent  of  the  infant  heir  to  the 
Duchy  of  Milan,  his  nephew.  Wishing  to  strengthen  liis  position,  he 
called  in  the  Trench,  and  crushed  what  weak  claims  could  be  opiKjsed 
to  his  assuming  the  actual  title  of  duke  by  obtaining  an  imperial  letter 
in  his  own  favour.  Sec  Commincs  (vii.  6),  who  had  his  information 
from  the  Venetian  ambassador. 

VOL.  I  I 


114  OLD  TOURAINE 


privations  as  themselves.  At  last  he  was  released  by 
composition,  and  to  his  disgust  his  claim  was  left 
unsu[)portcd  b}-  the  King.^ 

K  }-ear  after  Charles  would  have  sent  him  out 
again,  but  Louis  saw  the  prospect  of  a  higher  stake 
at  home,  for  the  Dauphin  had  just  died.  Ambas- 
sadors to  Amboise  from  P^lorence,  asking  for  help 
against  Milan,  could  no  better  persuade  him,  for  now 
the  King  himself  was  ill.  On  the  8th  of  April 
149S  he  heard  the  soldiers  round  his  courtx'ard  at 
Blois  crying,  "  Vive  Louis  XII.  !  " 

The  Italian  claims  were  forgotten  for  the  mo- 
ment, but  were  soon  to  be  revived.  The  snake  of 
Italy  seemed  to  have  a   terrible   fascination    for  the 

^  Commines  tells  the  whole  story  of  this  impolitic  business  of  Novara. 
The  Duke  of  Orleans,  when  Louis  XII.,  often  showed  signs  of  an  in- 
capacity for  foreii;n  politics  and  strategy,  which  he  only  redeemed  by 
the  excellence  of  his  government  at  home.  The  taking  of  Novara  was 
against  orders.  "  Et  avoit  este  escrit,"  says  Commines,  "a  mon  seigneur 
d'Orleans,  et  aux  capitaines,  qu'ils  n'entreprissent  riens  contre  le  due 
de  Milan,  mais  seulement  entendissent  a  garder  Ast." — \'III.  iii. 

After  the  town  was  taken  no  proper  provision  for  a  siege  was  made, 
no  consideration  given  to  the  unsafe  position  of  the  place  itself:  "car 
elle  est  a  dix  lieues  de  Milan  et  estoit  force  que  I'un  (Duke  of  Milan  or 
Orleans)  eut  tout." — VIII.  ix.  The  sufferings  of  the  garrison  from 
hunger  were  terrible  :  "on  n'avoit  vu  de  longtemps  si  grosses  neces- 
sites  ;  et  cent  ans  avant  que  fussions  nes,  ne  souffrirent  gens  si  grande 
faim  comme  ils  souffrirent  leans." — VIII.  ix.  .  .  .  "  il  niourut  bicn  deux 
milles  hommes,  que  de  faim  que  de  maladic. " 

Nor  could  Orleans  fairly  complain,  after  the  treaty  that  had  been 
made  with  some  difficulty  for  his  release,  that  the  King  was  in  no 
hurry  to  do  more  for  a  subordinate  whose  rash  action  had  seriously  in- 
convenienced him  at  the  moment,  and  was  to  lead  to  yet  more  trouble 
in  the  future.  On  the  mistakes  of  Louis  XII.  in  Italy  see  Machiavelli, 
Prince,  cap.  iii. 


THREE  DUKES  OF  ORLEAXS  115 

hard  -  headed  F'renchmen,  who  all  the  time  half 
dreaded  the  nation  whose  influences  the\-  were  so  fast 
absorbing — and  these  influences  grew  year  by  year, 
from  the  first  touch  of  the  pure  earl\-  Renaissance 
brought  by  Louis  d'Orlcans,  until  the  days  when 
Francis  I.,  with  Italian  blood  in  his  \eins  from  both 
sides  of  his  house,  flooded  France  with  the  influences 
of  the  later  spirit  that  was  but  a  decaying  remnant 
of  the  old  fresh  impulses,  that  brought  a  Catherine 
dc  Medicis  instead  of  a  Wilentine  X'isconti. 


ciiArT]-:R   VII 

l.UCHKS 

"  Tant  d'allees  et  tant  de  venues, 
Tant  d'entreprises  incongnues, 
Appoinctemens  rompus,  cassez, 
Traysons  secrettes  et  congnues, 
Mourir  de  fievres  continues, 
Bruvaiges  et  boucons  brassez, 
IJlancz  scellez  en  secret  passez  !  " 

Grixgoire, 
Le  Jen  du  Prince  des  sots  el  mere  sotte. 

The  river  Indrc  crosses  the  south-east  frontier  of 
Touraine  near  Chatillon,  and  flows  between  Loches 
and  Beaulieu  till  it  reaches  Cormery,  where  it  turns 
sharply  to  the  west,  and  passing  the  keep  of 
]\Iontbazon,  winds  slowly  round  the  turrets  of  Azay- 
le-Rideau  towards  its  meeting  with  the  Loire  below 
Langeais.  Perhaps  no  greater  contrast  between  two 
such  buildings  exists  as  between  the  two  guardians  of 
the  Indre,  the  sculptured  bridges  of  Azay-le-Rideau 
and  the  massive  walls  of  Loches.  Placed  in  a  most 
important  strategical  position  between  the  valleys 
of  the  Cher  and  the  Vienne,  Loches  is  itself  guarded 
by  Montbazon  and  INIontrichard,  and  forms  the  lowest 


o    c 


:f  « 


LOCHES  119 

point  of  the  line  of  fortresses  that  protect  the  southern 
approaches  of  the  Loire. 

One  of  the  chief  features  in  the  flat  landscape 
through  which  the  railway  from  Tours  passes  is  this 
keep  of  Montbazon,  a  vast  square  mass  of  masonry- 
rising  suddenly  from  the  ground,  the  donjon  of  the 
ruined  castle  of  Foulques  Nerra.  Poised  upon  one 
corner  stands  a  colossal  statue  of  the  Virgin,  evi- 
dently of  recent  erection,  with  much  better  effect 
than  at  first  sounds  possible  ;  distance  perhaps  lent 
something  of  majest\-,  as  it  stood  high  above  the 
fields  and  trees  looking  down  upon  the  sunlit 
plain.  The  countr\'  past  Reignac  and  Chambourg 
stretches  in  an  endless  flat  expanse  of  land  culti- 
vated over  every  inch  with  that  care  of  which  French 
pea.sants  seem  alone  to  have  the  secret,  and  watered 
by  the  "  ribbon  of  the  Indre." 

Above  this  plain  rises  the  hill  crowned  with 
the  towers  of  Loches,^  like  ^lont  St.  ]\Iichel  abo\c 
the  sands  of  the  north  coast.  The  houses,  thrown 
together  along  steep  and  twisted  streets,  cluster 
beneath  the  walls  that  guard  the  castle,  ant!  the 
e>-c  ri.scs  from  the  Tour  de  St.  .\ntoine  in  the  little 
"  place "  beneath,  towards  the  donjon  keep  and 
the  pinnacles  of  the  Collegiate  Church.  A 
sharp  ascent  from  this  first  tower,  which  is  of 
sixtccnth-ccntury    work,    and    used    to    contain    the 

'  The  name  seems  to  be  tkrivctl  from  ihc  word  loc  or  ///<-,  the  s.imc 
as  lrH:h  =  lakc.     Possibly  the  Iiulrc  used  to  ovcrllow  in  earlier  days. 


OLD  TOURAINE 


bells  of  the  town,  leads  upward  past  tlic  tiin-  Il()tcl 
do  \'illc  to  the   first    line   of  walls.       There  is  a  jjlaii 

d  raw  n  in  I  <J99 
showing;"  the  first 
extent  and  strength 
of  these  fortifica- 
tions, which  circled 
the  whole  area  of 
the  scattered  build- 
ings of  the  castle, 
and  isolated  it 
like  an  island  from 
the  surrounding 
country. 

The  buildings 
have  three  distinct 
divisions  :  the  Col- 
legiate Church  in 
the  midst,  with  the 
donjon  and  the 
prisons  to  the  east, 
and  on  the  other 
side  the  actual 
chateau,  which  is 
in  part  still  in- 
habited, looking 
down  upon  the 
western  plain.  And  if  the  dungeons  will  leave  the 
most   lasting   impression   on  the    traveller,  it   is   this 


"il  p* 


STEEI'LE   OF    THE   Eglisc   ColUgialc   AT    LOCHES. 

Fiviii  I'iollct  Ic  ]^uc. 


LOCHES  121 

church  which  is  the  great  architectural  feature  of 
the  place.  "  In  France,"  says  \'iollct  Ic  Due, 
"  exactly  on  the  border  line  which  separates 
buildings  with  cupolas  from  those  with  none,  there 
is  a  strange  and  unique  monument  in  which  the 
influences  of  Oriental  art  are  blended  with  the 
methods  of  construction  adopted  in  the  north  at  the 
beginning  of  the  twelfth  centur\-.  This  is  the  Col- 
legiate Church  of  Loches  :  a  monument  unique  in  the 
world,  perfect  in  its  kind,  and  of  a  savage  beaulw" 
It  was  round  the  first  building  raised  on  this  spot 
that  the  castle  and  town  of  Loches  began  :  here, 
in  450,  St.  Eustache  built  a  church,  which  was 
dedicated  by  Childebert  to  La  Madeleine.  On  the 
ruins  of  this  early  structure  was  built  the  Eglisc 
Collegiale  by  Geoffrey  Greygown  in  962,  and  con- 
secrated by  Hardouin,  Bishop  of  Tours,  under  the 
patronage  of  King  Clothairc.  In  i  i  80  began  the 
church  as  it  now  stands,  all  broken  into  points  and 
angles,  with  not  so  much  as  the  line  of  the  roof 
horizontal.^  I  will  not  trust  mjself  to  attempt 
the  architectural  description  of  this  cxtraortlinars- 
building.  "  It  consists,"  saj-s  Mr.  Petit,-  "  of  two 
steeples  of  ncarl)-  the  same  height  though  different 
detail,  flanked  one  of  them  by  an  apsid.d  projcr- 
tion,  the  cjthcr  b}-  a  low  rectangular   p(M'ch,  wliih;  the 

'  There  is  liardly  any  Wfjod  in  the  conslruclion  at  all — white  slone  is 
uscil  throii^jhout. 

'  Architectural  Studies  in  /-'raiite,  new  edilion,  revised  hy  Kdwaid 
Hell. 


OLD  TOURAINE 


intermediate  space  is  occupied  by  two  large  octagonal 
p\Taniicls  of  stone,  ncarl\'  in  contact  with  each  other 
as  well  as  with  the  belfry  towers.  How  are  these 
pyramids  supported  ?  What  we  have  taken  for  the 
front  is  the  side  ;  the  flanking  towers  are  in  reality 
a  central  and  western  tower  ;  the  two  pyramids  of 
stone  form  the  roof  of  the  nave,  and  not  only 
externally  but  internally  also  ''  —  hollow  pyramids 
whose  tops  are  lost  in  shadow,  and  give  an  inde- 
finable feeling  of  terror.  The  gray  weather-beaten 
stones  upon  its  outer  walls  give  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  cool  white  masonry  within,  very  much  like 
the  effect  of  a  glimpse  of  the  interior  of  the  cathedral 
at  Christ  Church  from  the  Quad,  without  the  richness 
of  detail  and  carving  in  the  later  work,  and  with  an 
added  beauty  all  its  own. 

Through  a  very  fine  Romanesque  porch,  whose 
grotesque  carvings  seem  designed  to  enforce  the 
saying,  "  laid  comme  le  peche  mortel,"  and  in  which 
is  a  strange  old  cylindrical  vessel,  now  used  for  holy 
water,  we  passed  into  this  cold  and  quiet  building, 
where  some  lines  of  the  old  tinted  decorations  were 
still  left  upon  the  stones,  and  the  rich  light  from 
the  windows  above  the  altar  at  the  farther  end 
fell  softly  on  the  arches  of  the  choir.  The  con- 
struction of  the  masonry  is  particularly  noteworthy, 
and  especially  the  corbelling  of  the  roof  of  the 
nave,  which  is  divided  into  two  square  compart- 
ments   by    a    pointed    arch    of    one    square    order. 


INTEKIf>K   OF    THE    hffltSC  Collcgialc   AT    I.OCHES, 

showing  the  hollow  pyramids  which  form  the  roof  of  the  nave. — From  I'iolld  Ic  Due- 


I.OCHES  125 

The     aisles     arc    quite     independent    of    the    main 

building^.      The   pictures  and   trifles  added  b\'  a  later 

day    had    done    less    to    spoil    this    church   than   in 

almost  any   other  building  of  the  same  size  we  had 

seen.      There  was,  it  is  true,  one  small  chapel  filled 

with  such  incongruities,  but  it  was  out  of  sight  ;   and 

the  whole  effect  was   pleasing   in   the   extreme — the 

peculiarity   of  the    building,   its    two    white    funnel - 

like  domes   opening    upward    to   the   roof,  giving    it 

an  originality  and   charm  which  nothing  could  quite 

efface.^ 

A    smiling    verger,    who     refused     to    take    our 

timorous  denials,  candle   in    hand  led  us  down   some 

steps    to    the    right   of  the   choir,    and   showed   with 

quiet   pride   a  subterranean    chapel   connected    b\'   a 

passage,  long  since  blocked,  with  the  castle.      This  is 

the   cr\-pt,   situated    under   the   south   apse,  which   is 

small,  but  seems  original.      Here  Louis  XI.,  so  it  is 

said,  came  to  pray,  below  ground  and  secret  even    in 

his   devotions,  in   this   castle   so   full  of  subterranean 

mysteries.      Some    strange    paintings   of  saints  and 

their    accessories    have    also    been    discovered    here 

beneath  the  jjlaster.      The  most  beautiful  ornament 

of  the  church    in    earlier    times    was    the    tomb   of 

Agnes   Sorel,   which    lias    been    mo\cd   to   the   Tour 

d'Agncs,  whither  we  ne.xt  turncti. 

'  .Mr.  I'clit  says  that  lliis  church  is  later  than  the  earliest  specimens 
of  the  Perijjueux  dome  and  earlier  than  the  Anj^evin  vaultinjjs,  and 
thcref'jre  may  l>e  a  link  between  the  two;  the  kavinj^  nf  the  roolintj 
open  makes  this  an  exceptional  and  distinct  cose. 


126  OLD  TOURAINE 


There  is  a  door  .straiijht  on  past  the  church 
wliich  is  Oldened  b\'  a  smilinij  old  woman  and 
discloses  the  Castle  of  Loches.  We  had  conne 
prepared  for  horrors,  forgetting  that  the  older  por- 
tion of  the  chateau,  that  lay  behind  us  to  the  east, 
was  the  place  of  the  dungeons  ;  and  we  were  sur- 
prised. Ever}-thing  wore  an  astonishingly  humane 
aspect.  This  was  partly  accounted  for  by  the  fact 
that  the  Sous-Prefet  of  the  district  li\es  here,  which 
gives  the  place  a  strange  feeling  of  life  and  habita- 
tion ;  and  we  fortunately  did  not  sec  M.  le  Sous- 
Prefet  to  dispel  the  illusion  of  antiquity  by  his 
modernised  appearance — in  anything  but  chain  mail 
and  wearing  a  formidable  sword,  he  would  ha\c  been 
disappointing. 

P'urthcr  impressions  became  still  more  peaceful. 
We  were  first  led  to  the  little  c^uict  chapel,  lighted 
b}"  two  windows  of  stained  glass,  where  repose  the 
remains  of  Agnes  Sorel,  "  une  douce  et  simple 
colombe  plus  blanche  que  les  cygnes,  plus  vermeille 
que  la  flamme,"  as  the  inscription  tells  us.  She  lies 
draped  in  a  dress  whose  folds  have  a  singular  charm 
of  outline,  with  her  feet  resting  upon  two  lambs 
that  innocently  suggest  her  name.  The  face  is 
beautiful  still,  even  in  the  marble  restored  with 
plaster  as  it  is  now,  and  I  could  believe  that  truly 
in  life  "  son  visage  avait  I'eclat  des  fleurs  en  prin- 
temps."  Peace  to  her  ashes — after  so  many  violating 
hands  have  touched  them.      h2vcn    the   revolutionists 


LOCHES  127 

could  not  complctch"  desecrate  tlie  tomb  thc\-  tried  to 
rifle.  Whatever  else  she  may  have  been,  we  may- 
remember  that  "  Demoiselle  de  Seurelle,  Dame  de 
Beaute,"  placed  her  influence  with  Charles  VII.  on 
the  side  of  good  and,  when  need  was,  on  the  side  of 
patriotism.  The  verses  of  Francis  I.  have  a  truer 
ring  than  the  prudery  of  later  daj-s — 

"  Gentille  Agnes,  plus  d"honneur  tu  merites 
(La  cause  etant  de  France  recouvrir) 
Que  ce  que  peut  dedans  un  cloitre  ouvrir 
Close  nonnain  ou  bien  dcvot  hermite." 

]\Iarie  d'Anjou,  tlic  gentle  and  kind  Queen  of 
Charles  VII.,  always  recognised  the  good  qualities  of 
Agnes  ;  and  even  the  Dauphin,  whose  spiteful  malice 
against  her  frequently  broke  out,  when  he  was  King 
refused  to  let  her  tomb  be  moved  from  the  church, 
"  unless  her  bequests  were  taken  from  it  too."  So 
for  a  time  her  body  stayed  there.  Her  executor  in 
the  many  pious  bequests  of  her  will  was  the  famous 
Jacques  Coeur,  who  had  not  }"et  fallen  into  unmerited 
disgrace.  One  tangible  witness  of  the  results  she 
had  no  slight  hand  in  bringing  about  is  the  "  cul  dc 
lampc  "  on  the  tower  at  the  west  angle  of  the  palace 
— a  carved  soldier,  on  the  point  of  being  beaten, 
thrusting  through,  in  his  last  effort,  the  luiglish 
leopard.  "  Douce  dans  scs  discours,  apaisant  les 
qucrcllcs,"  Agnes  made  far  better  use  of  her  oppor- 
tunities than  man\'  others,  who  have  onK-  succeeded 


128  OLD  TOUR  A I NE 

in  adilint^  to  a  position  equivocal  at  best  a  ic[)utation 
decidcdl)'  unfortunate.^ 

The  tower  in  whicli  lies  the  tomb  of  Agnes 
Sorel  was  the  tower  in  which  she  often  lived,  and,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  it  communicates  with  the 
apartments  of  the  King.  These  present  a  fine  facade 
of  simple  and  strong  architecture,  faced  by  a  terrace 
excellently  restored,  and  looking  down  from  a  height 
that  already  seems  astonishing  upon  the  houses 
beneath,  which  have  grown  for  ages  round  the 
immediate  precincts  of  the  castle,  and  within  the 
shelter  of  its  widespreading  walls.  The  restoration 
of  this  part  of  the  building  was  done  with  equal 
thoroughness  and  good  taste. 

Joined  to  the  apartments  of  Charles  VII.  comes 
the  facade  of  Louis  XII.,  with  a  contrast  just  suffi- 
cient to  denote  the  change  of  time  from  war  to 
peace,  from  buttresses  and  mcurtrieres  to  car\-cd  wide 
windows,  and  not  too  striking  to  produce  any  dis- 
cordant effect  upon  the  building  as  a  whole.  It  was 
in  these  buildings  that  Louis  XII.,  after  the  death 
of  Anne  de  Brctagne,  lived  so  unwisely  and  so  well 
with  the  young  and  beautiful  sister  of  the  English 
King,  w^hom  he  married  in  15 14.  Being  "fort 
antique  et  debile,"  as  Louise  de  Savoie  says  bitterly 
in  her  Journal,  he  could  not  stand  the  strain  of  a 
complete  change  in  his  habits  of  life,  and  died  soon 

^  See  the  account  of  Agnes  Sorel's  visit  to  Paris  in   144S,  in  the 
Journal  d'un  Bourgeois  de  Paris. 


vol..    I 


LOCHES  131 

afterwards.  Here,  too,  in  1547,  came  his  successor 
Francis  on  one  of  those  feverish  hunting  excursions 
which  immediately  preceded  his  death. 

W'c  had  but  too  short  a  time  to  pace  the  terrace 
and  look  down  upon  the  view  before  the  summons 
of  our  old  lady  and  the  impatient  jingle  of  her  keys 
called  us  awaj'.  Under  the  famous  chestnut  tree 
of  Francis  I.,  a  tree  that  looks  healthy  enough  to 
live  as  man\-  )-cars  more  as  it  has  done  already,  and 
to  grow  still  larger  and  more  beautiful,  we  passed 
behind  the  main  buildings  to  a  little  turret  staircase, 
from  which  we  were  able  to  remark  the  beautiful 
details  of  the  carving  on  the  upper  part  of  the 
house  from  the  vantage-ground  of  a  high  window  ; 
I  noticed  the  sitting  hound  which  was  one  of  the 
badges  of  Louis  XII.,  and  a  strikingly  powerful 
carving  of  a  jester's  head  within  its  curling  hood 
projecting  from  the  line  of  stone  beneath  the  roof 
This  same  roof,  too,  presented  a  magnificent  mass  of 
oak  beams  and  solid  carpentry  as  wc  looked  up 
at  them  from  the  floor  of  the  top  story  which 
had  once  been  the  Salle  dcs  Gardes,  so  we  were 
informed,  though  why  they  were  so  far  removed 
from  practicable  ground  wc  could  not  at  the  time 
conjecture. 

The  staircase  loads  to  the  oratory  of  Anne  dc 
Hrctagne,  a  tiny  little  chamber  completely  covered 
with  carvings  in  the  stone  and  plaster  —  the  chief 
device  was  the  ermine  and  the  t\\  istcd  cord  repeated 


132 


OLD  TOURAINE 


in  endless  variations,  wiiich  were  stran<;el\-  i)icUn-esciue 
at  last.^  Some  traces  of  colour  still  cling  to  the 
w.ills,    and    a    most   delicate    piece    of  stone    carvint^^ 

huni^  from  the 
ke\-stonc  of  the 
arch  abo\e  us,  like 
the  tracery  of  lace 
upon  a  lady's 
handkerchief  We 
had  e  n  t  e  r  e  d 
throut^h  a  door 
made  in  what  was 
original])-  the  altar 
of  the  little  chapel, 
with  a  beautiful 
stone  canop)'  above 
it,  and  went  out 
through  the  old 
entrance  into  an 
^      apartment    behind, 

THE  ORATORY  OF  ANNE  DE  BRETAGNE  AT  LOCHES. 

Decoration  showing  her  emblems  of  the  WniCll     nacl     appai  - 

ermine  and  the  twisted  cord.  ^^^^j^   ^^^^^   ^^^^   ^^ 

a  prison  during  the  Revolution.   Several  of  its  inmates 
had  left  inscriptions,  poetical  and  otherwise,  upon  the 


^  The  meaning  of  this  symbol  is  much  debated.  The  knotted  cord 
untied  again  can  hardly  refer  to  the  very  brief  space  of  Anne's  widow- 
hood having  been  spent  here,  nor  is  it  a  symbol  peculiar  to  herself. 
She  is  said  to  have  recommended  it  to  many  of  the  ladies  aliout  her 
Court,  and  possibly  took  it  from  her  father,  whose  house  was  peculiarly 
devoted  to  St.  Francis  of  Assisi. 


LOCHES  133 

walls;  one  of  these  ended  with  the  word  "Esperance  " 
in  larger  writing  than  the  rest  :  a  prisoner  might,  at 
all  events,  have  more  hope  within  these  walls,  swept 
by  the  winds  of  upper  air,  than  in  the  ghastly  dens 
below  ground  that  we  were  soon  to  sec. 

In  a  corner  of  this  same  room  were  thrown  two 
dusty  and  torn  portraits  of  ro)-al  personages — "  Pre- 
sented by  the  Emperor  "  was  written  on  their  frames. 
The\-  were  but  one  more  sign  of  the  tempest  of 
Republican  sentiment  which  had  left  several  marks 
on  Loches  from  the  first  outburst  of  1790  to  the 
Republic  of  to-day.  If  there  is  one  thing  that 
Loches  is  not,  it  is  not  democratic  ;  and  we  much 
admired  the  finesse  with  which  the  Republican  official 
was  ensconced  in  the  most  habitable  portion  of  the 
castle,  while  the  more  dreary  and  appalling  ruins 
were  left  to  inspire  a  becoming  horror  of  even  the 
relics  of  criminal  and  despotic  monarchy. 

\\"e  had  left  the  oldest  part  of  Loches  to  the  last. 
M.  Mabille  thinks  that  perhaps  the  earliest  chateau 
was  one  of  the  rare  ones  built  by  the  Merovingians 
in  the  sixth  centur}-,  but  though  such  an  one  may  have 
existed,  no  older  building  than  the  gigantic  donjon 
keep  of  Foulques  Nerra  is  now  to  be  seen  in  this 
part  of  the  castle.  It  is  like  that  of  Rochester,  but 
the  flat  pilaster  buttresses  often  seen  in  Xonnan 
work  '  have  in  this  example  massive  shafts  engaged 
one  in  each,  forming  a  semi-cylinder.  The  stone  for 
'  I'ctil,  op.  tit. 


134  OLD   roUKAIXE 


the  buildincj  was  taken  from  the  great  trench  still  to 
be  seen  between  the  castle  and  the  hill  of  Vigne- 
mont.  The  IMack  Falcon,  who  had  built  Montbazon 
and  IMontrichard  to  protect  this,  the  most  imi)ortant 
fortress,  from  attacks  from  Blois  and  Chaumont,  could 
also  overawe  the  neighbouring  settlement  at  l^caulieu, 
where  he  built  the  abbc\','  and  whose  inhabitants  were 
frctiuentl)'  quarrelling  with  the  men  of  Loches  con- 
cerning certain  market  privileges  and  other  questions, 
which  seem  to  be  equally  unsettled  at  the  present 
day.  We  looked  up  from  beneath  at  the  four  great 
walls  or  rather  cliffs  of  stone  which  formed  the  keep, 
where  traces  of  four  stories  still  were  visible,  reached 
by  stairs  cut  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  and  capable 
of  containing  i  200  men.  The  question  of  "  supplies  " 
was  settled  by  a  dark  and  extremely  unwholesome- 
looking  hole  sinking  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
through  which  the  food  for  the  garrison  was  raised. 
The  whole  had  evident!}-  been  built  more  with  a  view 
to  durability  and  strength  of  resistance  than  elegance 
or  grace  ;  a  relic  of  the  older  days  which  was  almost 
deserted  by  the  time  Francis  I.  had  metamorphosed 
the  feudal  castles  of  Touraine  into  so  man\-  nn-al 
hunting-scats. 

But  the   strength   of  Loches   had   its   advantages 

^  According  to  the  hideous  fashion  of  desecrating  tombs  to  sift  the 
ashes  of  their  dead  for  reHcs,  and  provide  mouldering  problems  for 
archaeological  disputes,  the  coffin  of  Foulques  Nerra  has  been  broken 
open  to  see  that  he  was  really  buried  in  Beaulieu.  Even  Agnes  Sorel 
could  not  rest  undisturbed  by  the  unholy  curiosity  of  "explorers," 


LOCIIES  135 

in  its  own  time.  It  was  as  useful  to  the  English 
Plantagenets  as  it  had  been  to  their  Angevin  fore- 
fathers. The  first  siege  that  Ccvjur-de-Lion  under- 
took on  his  return  from  imprisonment  was  this 
of  Loches,  held  by  Gu\-  de  Laval  for  the  French 
King.  Philip  lost  it  for  a  time,  but  took  it  from 
John  Lackland,  who  was  not  strong  enough  to 
protect  the  forces  of  the  widowed  Berengaria. 
Passing  for  a  while  from  the  Crown  as  a  reward  to 
the  Constable  of  P^rance,  Loches  was  reclaimed  as 
a  ro\-al  residence  b\-  St.  Louis  in  a  special  letter 
from  "  Egypt  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile."  John  the 
Good  came  here  on  his  way  to  defeat  and  cap- 
tivity at  Poitiers,  and  the  next  P'rcnch  King  who 
dwelt  at  Loches  was  only  "  Roi  de  Bourges."  Charles 
VII.  and  his  Queen  Marie  d'Anjou  possessed  but 
the  shadow  of  a  kingdom  before  Agnes  Sorel  ended 
the  work  that  Jeanne  d'Arc  had  begun. 

But  the  presiding  spirit  of  the  memories  of  Lociies 
is  Louis  XI.  Already  as  Dauphin  he  had  troubled 
the  place  with  the  intrigues  of  the  Pragucric.  Here 
the  Bastard  of  Bourbon,  Antoine  de  Chabannes,'  and 
other  captains  "  avcc  foison  de  gens  d'armes,"  came 
to  meet  him  and  arrange  for  the  conspiracy  at 
MouliiLS.  He  had  been  at  Loches  under  governors 
since  about  1438,  and  chafed  there  after  ha\ing 
tasted  the  sweets  of  command  in  INiiiuu  and 
Dauphinc,   where    he    had    been    sent    to  chase  (Hit 

'  Monstrclcl,  L'hioiii(/iii->,  liv.  ii.  cap.  tcxlv. 


136  OLD   TOUKAINE 


the  "  ccorchcurs."  ^  The  flatteries  of  his  servants,  and 
the  suL;"i;cstions  of  universal  discontent  made  by  his 
courtiers,  <:^ave  fuel  to  the  fire  of  ambition  that 
burnt  w  ithin  liim.  The  King  crushed  the  conspiracy 
and  tried  to  i^ive  the  restless  Dauphin  occupation 
in  conquering  the  rebellious  Count  of  Armagnac 
and  in  some  ver)-  savage  fighting  against  the  Swiss. 
Louis'  wife,  Margaret  of  Scotland,  who  had  sailed  to 
her  wedding  at  Tours  pursued  by  English  ships,  died 
at  twenty -two  about  this  time,  and  certain  dark- 
suspicions  clung  to  the  Dauphin's  reputation  from 
which  he  never  shook  himself  free  all  his  life.  His 
other  characteristics  soon  began  to  show  themselves 
too.  In  constant  and  open  opposition  to  his  father, 
he  was  at  one  time  obliged  to  fl)-  to  Iku'gundy, 
and  actually  writes  in  excuse,  *'  pour  ce  que,  comme 
\ous  scavez,  mon  bel  oncle  de  Bourgogne  a  intention 
de  brief  aller  sur  Ic  Turc,  a  la  defense  de  la  foi 
catholique." 

It  was  while  he  was  listening  to  the  Cent 
NouvcUes  XoHvdlcs  at  his  distant  Court  at  Genep, 
that  he  heard  tidings  of  his  father's  death,  and  at 
last  seized  the  power  he  had  been  thirsting  for  so 
long.  His  first  business  was  to  revenge  himself 
upon  his  father's  friends,  his  next  to  raise  extra- 
ordinary sums   in    pitiless   taxation.       One   mistaken 

'  For  the  lerril)]e  stale  of  France  in  1439,  during  the  murders  and 
depredations  of  these  ecorcheurs,  see  Olivier  de  la  Marche,  Chroniqtics, 
I.  ccxliii.  "Tout  le  tournoiement  du  royaume  de  France  etait  plein  de 
places  et  de  forteresses,  vivant  de  rapines  et  de  proie."' 


LOCHES  137 

bargain  at  this  time  proved  an  exception  to  his 
usual  rule  of  cunning  and  intrigue.  After  he  had 
moved  from  Amboise  to  Tours  he  was  there  cajoled 
by  the  Pope  into  abolishing  the  Pragmatic  Sanction, 
and  seems  to  have  got  nothing  in  return  but  a  holy 
sword. 

But  in  spite  of  the  dark  shadow  which  this 
monarch  had  managed  to  cast  over  all  Touraine 
during  the  process  of  encouraging  its  wealth  and 
commerce,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
strong  sense  of  a  vigorous  personality  ;  of  a  man 
who,  with  all  his  faults,  resolved  to  rule,  who  if  he 
could  not  be  loved  determined  to  be  feared.  Scott's 
masterly  presentment  of  Louis  XL  in  Oneutin 
Diirivard  will  be  in  the  mind  of  all  travellers  in 
Touraine,  and  Chateaubriand  has  thrown  into  strong 
relief  the  strange  contrasts  visible  in  this  unique 
character,  who  was  as  immoral  in  his  private  life  as 
he  was  tyrannically  severe  in  pubh'c  iuilgments.^ 

This  Louis,  who  made  his  servants  heralds,  and 
his  barbers  Ministers  of  State,  whose  only  confidants, 
says  Voltaire,  were  low-born  men  with  hearts  lower 
than  their  stations,  who  regained  l)\-  unscrupuldus 
cunning  what  he  lost  by  the  natural  dcpravit}'  of  his 

'  It  is  a  curious  fact  for  students  of  heredity  that  \\w  daufjhtrr  of 
.Marjjucritc  dc  Sxsscnayc,  the  mistress  of  Louis,  married  Ayniar  de 
Poitiers,  an  ancestor  of  the  fair  Diana  whom  we  shall  meet  at  CliiiiDii- 
ccaux.  It  is  strange,  tfX),  that  this  same  Diana's  husband  was  I.onis  de 
Hrtze,  Grancl  Seneschal  of  N(jrmandy,  whose  father  iiad  marrietl  the 
daughter  <jf  Charles  \'II.  and  Agnes  Sorel. 


I3S  OLD  TOUR  A  IN E 


character,  who  showed  conspicuous  address  and 
bravcr\-  when  a  \-outh  of  twenty,  died  at  last  a 
cowardh'  old  man  amidst  despicable  scenes  of  senile 
debauchery  and  terror.  He  died  after  having  made 
justice  secure  and  strengthened  France  by  politics 
and  war  ;  and  yet  before  his  death  he  had  killed  by 
fair  means  or  foul  more  than  four  thousand  cjf  his 
subjects,  and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  famil\-  of 
Nemours,  shown  the  last  degree  of  cold  and  calcu- 
lating cruelty — a  cruelty  which  left  but  few  great 
men  worth  the  name  in  France,  and  ground  down  the 
nation  to  the  tranquillity  of  a  gang  of  galley  slaves  : 
in  all  this  his  only  limitation  was  betrayed  in  his 
manners,  his  will  never  wavered,  for  (until  his 
death)  he  was  at  any  rate  no  coward.  "  I  can  easily 
dare,"  says  Commines,  "  to  gi\-e  this  praise  to  Louis 
— never  have  I  seen  a  man  bear  up  so  stoutly  in 
adversity."  ^  But  the  contrasts  go  still  farther.  The 
King  who  chained  up  the  volumes  of  the  Nominalists 
protected  the  first  printers  from  Germany,  and  the 
freedom  of  the  printing  press  received  its  first  real 
encouragement  in  France  from  the  most  tyrannical 
monarch  on  the  French  throne. 

One  distinct  aim  can  be  seen  throughout  the 
changing  actions  of  Louis'  reign  :  his  object  was  not 
so   much   to   extend   the  outward    boundaries   of  his 

^  P"or  a  longer  description  of  Louis'  character  see  Commines,  I.  x., 
in  which  the  significant  words  occur,  "  il  etait  naturellement  ami  des 
gens  de  moyen  etat,  et  ennemi  de  tous  grands  qui  se  pouvaient  passer 
de  hii." 


LOCHES  139 

kingdom  as  to  crush  the  hostile  feudality  within, 
and  to  create  absolute  monarchy.  "  The  Genoese 
have  given  themselves  up  to  me,"  he  writes,  "  and  1 
hand  them  over  to  the  devil."  That  Louis'  foreign 
policy  was  not  really  so  restricted  in  its  aims  as 
used  commonly  to  be  thought,  is  becoming  more  and 
more  clear,  but  it  is  b\'  the  principle  of  centralisation 
that  all  his  actions,  good  or  bad,  were  dominated, 
and  for  this  necessary  task  he  was  the  necessary  man. 

In  his  enlightenment  and  his  superstition,  his 
cruelty  and  his  great  plans  for  France,  Louis  is  a 
true  t\-pe  of  his  age,  which  was  that  of  transition 
from  dying  medirevalism  to  the  new  life  which  the 
art  of  the  Renaissance  was  bringing.  It  had  been 
long  in  coming  to  France.  One  hundred  and  fift}' 
years  before,  Dante  and  Petrarch  had  begun  modern 
literature,  but  in  France  the  horrors  of  the  long  war 
with  England,  of  the  plague,  of  the  Jacquerie,  above 
all  of  the  civil  war,  had  brutalised  men.  The  ghasth- 
idea  of  possession  by  the  devil  had  taken  hold  of 
men's  minds,  and  religion  became  a  mocker)-  in  the 
face  of  the  orgies  of  the  Papacy  of  Avignon  or  of  the 
monks  nearer  home. 

Born  in  a  time  wherein  nothing  was  finished  and 
everything  had  begun,  Louis  partook  of  the  intjn- 
strous  nature  of  his  unfrjrmed  age,  an  age  in  which 
tiie  300  registers  of  the  "Trcsor  dcs  Chartes  "  paiiU 
manners  air  Villon,  Has.selin,  or  Regnier  paint  them, 
without  shame  and  without  restraint.      Tlun- show  us 


I40  OLD   TOURAIXE 


the  bourgeoisie  "  sans  chemise,  sans  pudeur,  et  par 
le  dos,"  as  Michelct  says,  who  has  so  clearly  painted 
the  horrors  of  this  age  of  "  lead  and  iron,"  from  i  300 
to  I  500. 

The  policy  of  centralisation  which  one  da)-  should 
be  the  salvation  of  France  was  temporarily  its  ruin  ; 
men  were  reduced  to  one  dull,  dead  level,  the  springs 
of  morality  were  choked,  energy  was  crushed,  and 
when  the  King  wished  to  rule  he  found  his  kingdom 
little  better  than  an  empty  void.  Thus  is  it  that 
great  discoveries  and  new  inventions,  material  aid  or 
chance  assistance,  all  do  nothing.  Yet  Joan  of  Arc 
had  not  died  or  the  great  chancellor  Gerson  preached 
in  vain.  National  life  was  becoming  conscious  and 
active,  and  under  the  dead  level  of  administrative 
uniformity  made  by  Louis,  was  developing  that 
vigour  of  intellectual  and  commercial  life  which  two 
centuries  of  misrule  from  Valois  and  Bourbon  could 
scarcely  crush. 


cil\pti-:r  \'iii 


LOCMES    {Coititiiicd) 

Sous  peu  nous  detruirons  ces  hautes 

Murailles,  briserons  ces  chaines,  et 

ferons  disparaitre  ces  tortures  inventccs 

par  les  Rois — trop  faibles  pour 

arrcter  un  peuple  qui  veut  sa 

17S5     liberte     1785. 

The  last  Inscription  in  the  prisons  of  Laches. ' 

The  great  keep  built  b\-  the  Black  Count  was  first 
used  as  a  prison  by  that  Fulk 
>3  Rechin  whose  cruelty  had 
•I  ^  shown  itself  at  Chinon  b\-  the 
=1 1  lifelong  imprisonment  of  his 
^  k  brother.  Passing  from  these 
i  "s.  enormous  ruins  the  traveller  is 

>  7.  led  through  the  chamber  where 

>  "^  the     archers     of    the     Scottish 

'J.  L) 

^-  Guard    reposed,    and    is    shown 

i  I  what     purported      tcj     be    their 

»«  I"  ancient      beds,      structures      in 

I  -j         g '''  solidly -hewn    wood,    much    re- 

fi    •      '^      sembiing     the    accommodation 

ll   ^  •  ,  ^       c 

F    •  given    nowada\s   to   a    pack   ol 

'  Tlic  (^ri-alt-r  rimnbLr  <if  the  inscriptions  nuiitiuiicd   in  tliis  cliaptcr 


142  OLD  TOURAINE 


staghounds.  The  work  known  as  "la  Tour  Ncuvc,"  at 
the  north-west  angle  of  tlic  fortress,  was  built  by 
Louis  XI.  less  for  the  sake  of  increasing  the  strength 
of  the  fortifications  than  for  the  security  of  prisoners. 
Within  a  lower  room  is  the  torture  chamber,  with 
a  suggestive-looking  iron  bar,  whose  uses  the  guide 
will  describe  with  much  feeling  and  expression.  We 
found  the  place  now  served  as  a  prison  for  the 
Government,  but  it  was  empty  at  the  time.  Crimi- 
nals may  have  been  scared  at  the  prospect  of  a 
lengthy  sojourn  in  a  chamber  full  of  such  hideous 
associations. 

"  Entrez  Messieurs,"  says  an  ironical  inscription 
scratched  upon  the  prison  walls,  "  Entrez  Messieurs 
ches  le  Roy  nostre  maistre."  A  cruel  King  and  a 
hard-hearted  when  crossed  in  liis  desires  was  the 
master  of  Jean  lvalue,  whose  cell  is  in  the  inner 
prisons  on  the  second  story  from  the  bottom. 
From  the  doorway,  opening  half-way  up  the  wall, 
we  can  stand  where  Louis  XI.  and  his  "compere 
Tristan  I'Hermite"  stood  to  watch  their  wretched 
prisoner  in  his  cage  of  iron,  whose  staples  are  still 
fixed  into  the  roof  above.  It  seems  almost 
incredible  that  western  civilisation  should  have 
produced  a  parallel  to  the  hideous  sufferings  of  the 
cagcd-in  Bajazet  at  the  hands  of  Tamburlaine  ;   but 

are  quoted  from  the  careful  copies  made  by  Mrs.  Watts  Jones,  and 
published  by  her  as  "Thoughts  in  Prison"  in  the  English  Illusti-ated 
Magazine  for  February  1891. 


LOCHES  {Confiniuif) — THE  PKISONS  143 

if  the  witness  of  Commines  were  not  enough,  there 
is  distinct  mention  of  the  making  of  this  very  cage 
in  the  accounts  of  Louis  XI/ 

Jean  Balue,  who  from  the  post  of  secretary  to 
the  King  had  risen  by  unscrupulous  dishonesty  and 
the  omnivorous  activity  of  a  reckless  parvenu,  to  the 
dignity  of  Bishop  of  Angers  and  Cardinal,  had  rapidly 
got  into  the  good  graces  of  his  master,  who  seldom 
asked  questions  when  the  ends  he  wished  were 
attained.  At  last  the  schemer  overreached  himself 
After  having  been  responsible  for  much  that  hap- 
pened at  Peronne,  and  gone  farther  than  his  powers 
justified  in  meddling  with  the  politics  of  Burgundy, 
he  found  it  advisable  for  his  own  ends,  after  Louis' 
return,  to  sow  discord  afresh  among  the  roxal 
princes  and  write  treasonable  proposals  to  the  Duke 
of  Burgund}-.'  He  was  imprisoned  at  Loches, 
Montbazon,  Plessis-lez-Tours,  and  other  places  for 
some  eleven  years,  and  died  after  his  release  still 
plotting  (\\\X.\\  Cardinal  de  la  Rovcre)  at  Ancoiia. 

Another  inscription,  carved  w  ith  great  care  and 
delicacy  in  the  hard  stone,  is  attributed  to  a  worthier 
prisoner.  The  words  "  Dixisse  me  aliquando  pcni- 
tuit,  tacuisse  lumquam  "  may  well  have  been  actual! v 

'  "  A  Ciuicjn  dc  I5uc  ...  la  somiiic  dc  60  livrcs  lurnois,  jxjiir  iccllc 
cstrc  par  lui  employee  h  faire  fairc  unc  caj^e  ile  fer,  pour  la  surrele  ct 
garde  de  la  personne  du  Cardinal  d'Angiers." 

-  Jean  cic  Troycs  {Livre  lUs  fails  aihu-itus  an  temps  du  roi  Louis  -V/. ), 
"...  et  autrcs  grandes  et  merveillcuses  diahleries  qu'il  ecrivait  audit 
due  dc  llourgogne  par  un  sien  servileur,  <iui  dc  ccs  dilcs  letlrcs  et 
intlructions  qu'il  portait  fut  Irouve  saibi."  .    .  . 


144  OLD  TOUKAINE 


traced  by  the  historian-philosopher  Comniines,  who 
was  not  onl}'  imprisoned  but  confined  in  a  cwgo.  as 
well.  Mc  has  described  these  cages  as  made  "  of 
iron  and  some  of  wood,  covered  w  illi  iron  plates 
without  and  within,  '  avcc  terribles  fcrrures,'  some 
eight  feet  broad  and  about  the  height  of  a  man.  .  .  . 
Plusieurs  I'ont  maudit,  et  moi  aussi  qui  en  ai  tate, 
sous  Ic  roi  de  present  (Charles  VIII.)  I'espacc  de 
huit  mois."  He  had  been  implicated  in  the  conspiracy 
of  Orleans  in  Hrittany  and  elsewhere  against  the 
Regent  Anne  de  Beaujeu,  of  which  we  have  heard 
alread}-  ;  and  it  is  strange  to  think  of  him  sitting 
within  these  darkened  walls  and  choosing  the  phrases 
for  his  Chronicles  of  Louis  XI.  that  were  to  form 
the  first  part  of  his  famous  histor\-. 

Memories  of  even  more  stirring  deeds,  beneath 
a  brighter  sky,  were  to  come  to  another  famous 
prisoner  later  on,   in  whose  ears   Dante's  words  were 

ringing — 

"  Nessun  maggior  dolorc 
Che  ricordarsi  del  tempo  felice 
Nelhi  miser! a.'' 

The  inscription  that  translates  this  is  attributed  to 
Ludovico  Sforza,  whose  dungeon  is  at  the  end  of 
interminable  passages  and  dank  labyrinths  of  rock 
within  the  foundations  of  a  third  tower  across  the 
court}-ard  begun  In"  Louis  XL,  of  which  only  the 
Salle  des  Gardes  of  Louis  XII.  now  remains  above 
"round. 


\OL.   I 


LOCHES  {dm tinned) — THE  PRISONS  147 

Our  descent  "  in  infernos  "  now  began.  Within 
a  little  doorway  tlic  wonKin  who  guided  us  was 
striving  to  light  a  small  and  sputtering  lamp  that 
seemed  to  resent  being  compelled  to  show  off  these 
subterranean  mysteries.  A  narrow  twisting  stair- 
case leads  down  to  the  le\el  of  the  moat  outside 
barred  with  great  doors  at  every  turn. 

A  hundred  steps  below  ground  is  the  cell  of 
Ludovico  Sforza,  called  II  Moro,  Duke  of  Milan. 
On  the  wall  opposite  the  window,  which  gatlicrs 
through  a  slit  in  fourteen  feet  of  rock  what  little 
light  has  straj'ed  into  the  shadowy  passages  from 
the  sunny  fields  of  Touraine  above,  is  a  small  square 
scratched  on  the  stone  to  mark  the  on]\-  spot 
touched  by  the  daj-light.  The  room  is  also 
strangely  decorated  with  rough  attempts  at  fresco, 
with  which  the  prisoner  amused  himself,  red  stars 
in  patterns  on  the  wall,  and,  twice  repeated,  a 
prodigious  helmet  with  its  casque  just  showing 
a  stern,  hard-looking  face  inside.^ 

These  were  but  poor  substitutes  for  the  frcsli 
frescoes  of  Leonardo  in  the  beautiful  Milan  tliat 
Sforza  was  tr)-ing  to  forget,  a  Milan  unt(juched  by 
time  and  still  enriched   with  statues  that  arc   lost   to 

'  '1  he  face  upf>n  ihe  walls  of  Loclics  is  not  unlike  the  features  of  II 
Muro  in  I'aulus  Jovius,  if  we  lake  into  consideration  the  ililVerence  in 
training  ancl  circumstances  of  their  artists.  A  much  exa-^i^erateil  ac- 
count of  Ludovico's  hardships  is  given  liy  Jovius,  and  the  interesting 
fact  mentioned  of  a  certain  faithful  "  I'ontreniulo"  having  accompanied 
Sfor/a  in  liin  captivity.  There  is  a  portrait  of  Ludovico  in  the  library 
of  ChrUl  Church,  Oxford. 


I4S  OLD  TOL'RAIXE 


US,  with  carving  still  clear  and  delicate  upon  its 
palaces  that  echoed  with  the  songs  of  singers  from 
beyond  the  Alps. 

Banished  in  1476  by  Cecco  Simonetta,  the 
Secretary'  of  Galeazzo  Maria,  Ludovico  came  back 
to  the  imprudent  widow  Bonne  de  Savoie,  and  was 
accompanied  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  by  a 
certain  Captain  Roberti  di  Sanscverino.  B}'  the 
next  \-ear  Cecco  was  beheaded,  as  he  had  prophesied, 
and  II  Moro's  little  nephews  were  safely  gratif\-ing 
their  tastes  for  militar}-  architecture  within  the  strong 
walls  of  the  Rocca. 

For  some  time  the  Regent  li\'ed  in  happiness  and 
great  splendour,  encouraging  the  lectures  upon  science 
and  the  classics  that  learned  Greeks  or  Orientals 
were  giving  in  Milan  ;  watching,  too,  the  gallantrj^  and 
love-making  that  flourished  among  his  courtiers  under 
his  princel)-  rule.  And  it  was  from  women  that  his 
first  troubles  came.  At  last  he  had  been  obliged 
to  marry  his  long-imprisoned  nephew  to  Isabel  of 
Arragon — he  had  himself  wedded  another  princess  of 
Arragon,  Beatrice  d'Este,  the  daughter  of  the  Uuke 
of  Fcrrara,  and  the  women  soon  began  to  quarrel. 
The  }-oung  Duchess  summoned  the  help  of  Naples 
against  Ludovico,  who  then  armed  himself  with 
letters  from  the  Emperor,  and  called  in  Charles  \'III. 
of  France,  as  we  have  heard  before.  The  opportune 
death  of  the  young  duke  left  II  ]\Ioro  with  only  the 
infant  heir  to  crush,  and  his  ambitious  schemes  were 


LOCHES  {Continued)— THE  PRISONS  149 

prospering,  crossed  onh-  b}-  the  first  phenomenal 
successes  of  the  young  French  King  ;  but  these  were 
soon  counterbalanced  by  the  mistakes  of  Orleans, 
whose  claim  to  Milan — a  fountain  of  wealth  to  its 
possessor  in  the  midst  of  its  rich  plain — grew  weaker 
and  weaker  before  the  bold  policy  of  Ludovico  ;  for 
while  the  widowed  Duchess  Mabel  could  get  no  help 
from  any  Court  in  Italy  or  out  of  it,  Beatrice  d'Este 
was  entertaining  the  Emperor  Alaximilian,  at  the 
cost  of  terrible  taxation  to  the  Milanese  and  of  her 
own  life  to  her  husband.  Her  tomb  is  in  the  Cer- 
tosa  near  Pavia,  and  close  by  it  is  the  man  who 
worked  through  good  and  c\"il  for  her  sake,  II  Moro, 
"  with  the  fat  face  and  fine  chin  of  the  elderly  Na- 
poleon, the  beak -like  nose  of  Wellington,  a  small, 
querulous,  neat-lipped  mouth,  and  immense  e\'ebrows 
stretched  like  the  talons  of  an  eagle  across  the  low 
forehead."  ^ 

But  in  1499  the  claims  of  Orleans  had  become 
the  claims  of  France.  The  quarrel  for  the  succession 
of  -Milan  had  become  a  question  of  luuopcan  politics. 
Louis  had  conquered  Lombard}-,  and  secured  new 
letters  from  the  Emperor  to  annul  II  Moro's  claim  ; 
and  Ludovico  himself,  "  with  two  small  children  and 
some  two  thousand  horse,"  escaped  to  Coni,  a  town 
upon  the  route  to  Germany,  exclaiming  against  the 
treachery  of  Venice,  yet  not  strong  enough  to  come 
to  blows  with   France,  "  comme  tourmentc  de   peine 

'   .Mary  D.Trincslctcr,  End  of  ihc  Middle  Ai^cs,  p.  307. 


I50  OLD   TOUKAIXF. 


mcntalc,  a  voix  dcsolcc  et  rcj^ard  eplore,"  as  Jean 
(.rAuton  tells  us.  lUit  he  had  by  no  means  despaired. 
Sheltered  by  the  Kin<^  of  I'rance's  enem\-,  the 
Emperor  Maximilian  of  Austria,  and  provided  with 
"  force  ducats,  qui  est  une  tres  bonne  provision,"  says 
Saint  Gelais.  he  manacled  by  the  next  )-car  to  c^et 
together  sufficient  forces  of  Swiss  and  otlicrs  to 
make  another  bid  for  I\Iilan  "  un  morceau  si  friand 
et  dc  si  bonne  digestion."  He  was  helped,  too,  by 
the  misgovernmcnt  of  Tri\ulzio,  whom  King  Louis 
had  left  in  power,  and  by  the  readiness  of  Milan 
and  the  Lombards  to  revolt,  who  were  "swollen 
with  poison,"  says  the  French  chronicler,  using  a 
metaphor  that  seems  an  eas\-  one  to  writers  upon 
Italy,  "  and  like  vipers,  read}-  to  secretly  shoot 
forth  the  venom  of  their  treason."  Ludovico 
Sforza  himself,  in  the  age  of  the  Borgias,  had  not 
shed  so  much  blood  as  many  of  his  contemporaries, 
na}-,  he  had  been  the  patron  of  literature  and 
art  in  ]\Iilan,  yet  the  fickle  Italians  had  at  first 
welcomed  Louis  XII.'s  army  ;  the  change  had  only 
come  when  the  alliance  with  Cajsar  Borgia  had  ap- 
peared in  all  its  horror.  At  this  juncture  Ludovico 
returned  with  an  army  behind  him,  swept  back 
Trivulzio  from  I\Iilan,  and  took  the  famous  Bayard 
prisoner.  "  The  Lo\-al  Servitor "  tells  the  stor}-, 
which  does  nothing  but  credit  to  II  ]\Ioro.^ 

^  See  "  Le  loyal  Serviteur,"  Chroiiiqiie  tin  lion  Chevalier,  Jlichaud 
et  Poujoulat,  ire  Serie,  t.  iv. 


LOCHES  {Continued) — 7HE  PRISONS  151 

Bayard,  being  in  garrison  about  t\vent\-  miles 
from  Milan,  heard  that  there  were  some  three  hun- 
dred Italian  heads  to  be  broken  in  Binasco.  Now 
the  captain  of  that  place,  Messire  Jean  Bernardin 
Cazache,  being  a  good  knight  and  well  trained  in 
war,  did  not  wait  to  be  taken  like  a  bird  ujion  its 
nest,  but  sallied  forth  valiantly  against  the  small 
handful  of  French  knights.  With  loud  cries  of 
"  France,  France  !  More,  More  ! "  the  troops  met, 
and  the  Italians  were  soon  fl\'ing  towards  Milan 
with  Bayard  hard  upon  their  tracks.  So  heartily  did 
the  good  Chevalier  pursue  his  enemies  that,  paying 
no  heed  to  the  turning  back  of  his  companions,  he 
rushed  through  the  gates  of  ]\Iilan  with  Cazache's 
men,  and  was  therein  taken  and  brought  before 
Ludovico,  who  wondered  to  see  him  so  young,  and 
asked  the  business  that  brought  him,  in  such  hurried 
fashion,  to  Milan.  Baj-ard,  "qui  nc  fut  dc  ricn 
ebahi,"  answered  courteously  and  well  ;  and  in  a 
short  time  upon  his  own  good  horse  again,  and 
clad  in  the  armour  he  had  worn  in  the  pursuit,  he 
was  riding  out  of  Milan  with  a  herald  and  telling 
the  Seigneur  dc  Ligny  in  the  French  camp  of  the 
courtesy  and  courage  of  II  Moro,  "qui  pour  pen 
dc  chose  n'cst  pas  ais^*  a  etonner." 

As  we  have  seen  before,  Xoxara  stood  or  fell 
with  Milan,  and  to  the  strengthening  of  Novara 
Ludovico  now  turned.  Soon  after  Baj-ard's  adven- 
ture  La    Trcmouillc    and    Georges    d'Amboi.sc   had 


152  OLD  rOVRAINE 


brought  a  large  body  of  Swiss  and  I'^'ciich  to  the 
help  nt  Trivul/io  at  Mi >rlara,  and  tlic  whole  were  soon 
blockading  Sforza  in  the  same  town  in  which  \\v  had 
besieged  the  Duke  of  Orleans  )-ears  before.' 

Ludovico's  mercenaries  failed  him  at  the  crisis, 
and  belra}-cd  him  to  the  h^-cnch,"  who  put  him  for 
safety  into  the  castle  of  Novara;'  The  King  was  at 
Lyons  when  the  news  reached  liim,  and  Saint  Gelais 
reports  the  jo\-  with  which  he  announced  the  taking 
of  Sfor/.a  to  Anne  de  Bretagne,  comparing  La 
Tremouille  to  Scipio,  Clovis,  Charles  Martcl,  and 
many  other  militar}^  heroes  who  had  deserved  well 
of  their  counlr\-. 

The  Comtc  de  Lign}'  himself  had  recognised  the 
importance  of  his  capture  at  the  moment,  and  Louis 
XII.  determined  to  make  sure  that  Ludovico  should 
trouble  Italian  politics  no  more.  After  so  man\- 
changes  came  the  last  scene  of  all,  the  beginning  of 
the  end.  "  An  old  h'rench  street  surging  \\  ilh  an 
eager  mob,  through  which   there  jostles   a   long   line 

'  There  is  a  translation  of  Commines  (who  is  the  authority  for  opera- 
tions in  Italy  previous  to  the  taking  of  Ludovico)  made  by  Thomas 
Danett  in  1596,  in  which  Trivulzio  is  called  "  Mr.  John  James  of 
Trevol."  The  whole  book  is  almost  as  good  a  piece  of  work  as 
Florio's  Montaigne,  and  well  worth  reading. 

-  He  was  trying  to  get  away  with  "  ses  cheveu.\  trousses  sous  une 
coiffe,  une  gorgerette  autour  du  col,  un  pourpoint  de  satin  cramoisi, 
et  des  chausses  d'ecarlate,  la  hallebarde  au  poing  ;  et  en  ce  point  le  prit 
le  Comte  de  Ligny."— y<?a«  cTAtdon. 

'•'  There  were  Swiss  on  both  sides,  but  the  Trench  recruiting  iiad 
been  done  under  the  authority  of  the  Cantonal  administration,  antl 
Sforza's  Swiss  were  afraid  to  oppose  them. 


LOCHES  {Continued)^TIIE  PRISONS  153 

of  guards  and  archers  ;  in  their  midst  a  tall  man, 
dressed  in  black  camlet,  seated  on  a  mule.  In  his 
hands  he  holds  his  biretta  and  lifts  up  unshaded  his 
pale  courageous  face,  showing  in  all  his  bearing  a 
great  contempt  of  death.  It  is  Ludovico,  Duke  of 
Milan,  riding  to  his  cage  at  Loches."  x'^bbcs  and 
scribes  of  later  da)'s  who  never  fought  or  loved  a 
single  hour  as  Sforza  did  through  all  his  throbbing, 
reckless  life,  have  pointed  out  what  consolation  it 
must  have  afforded  to  the  prisoner  to  have  thus 
covered  his  walls  with  decoration,  by  the  help  of 
necessary  ladders  too,  and  even  paint-brushes,  un- 
wonted solace  of  a  captive's  weariness  ;  they  forget 
the  inscriptions  that  run  round  the  walls  as  well, 
they  forget  how  bitterly  Ludovico  found  that 

"  This  is  truth  the  poet  sint^s, 
That  a  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier 
things.'" 

Here  for  nearly  nine  years  Sforza  languished,  tr3'ing 
to  forget,  until  he  was  moved  higher  up  the  tower 
and  even  allowed  some  e.xercise  in  open  air  before 
his  death.^ 

'  The  inscriptions  Sforza  left  tell  theirown  pitiful  t.ilcof  the  strong  man, 
who  would  have  welcomed  sudden  death  in  fair  fight,  slowly  decaying 
in  this  living  tomb,  where  "death  assailed  him  but  he  could  not  die." 

"Quant  mort  mc  assault  et  (jue  je  ne  puis  mourir 
Et  sccourir  on  ne  me  veult  mais  me  faire  rudesse 
Et  dc  licssc  mc  voir  bannir." 

And  again  in  large  letters  among  the  rough  red  frescoes — 
"Je  fxjrtc  en  prison  pour  ma  device  que  je  m'arme  dc  [lalience  par 
force  de  peine  Ton  me  fait  pouster  "  {sic). 

"  Ludovico  .Sforza  was  called  II  Moro,"  savs  fi)\iiis.  "  Iik  ausc  hf  btire 


154  OLD   TOURAINE 


Farther  alonj^  the  same  dark  passac^e  which  opens 
into  Sforza's  cell,  and  deeper  still  within  the  earth,  is 
what  is  known  as  the  Prison  of  the  l^ishops.  As  II 
Moro  had  scratched  his  spot  of  sun,  so  these  ecclesi- 
astics had  made  a  pitiful  representation  of  an  altar 
and  a  cross  ;  and  on  the  wall  beneath  the  window 
are  the  marks  still  left  where  each  in  turn  t^rippcd 
the  hard  stones  with  his  feet  and  climbed  up  painfully 
to  see  what  little  lic^ht  by  some  mistake  had  been 
allowed  to  shine  upon  them.  I'ew  thinc^s  in  all  this 
miserable  mass  of  terrible  recollections  seemed  to 
give  me  so  keen  a  picture  of  the  sufferings  endured 
b\-  men  thus  shut  out  from  the  common  air  and 
light  of  da}-,  as  these  iow  poor  footsteps  so  wearih" 
worn  out  in  the  hard  rock.  These  prisoners  were 
the  Bishops  of  Puy  and  Autun,^  who  were  implicated 
in    the    conspirac}'    of    the     Constable     Charles    de 

a  mulberry  tree  for  his  device,  which  from  the  seasons  of  its  flo\s'ers  and 
fruit  was  taken  as  an  emblem  of  prudence."  "  God  and  II  Moro  alone 
know  "  ran  the  proverb  at  the  time.  Some  derive  the  name  wrongly 
from  his  dark  (Moorish)  complexion. 

1  Such  is  the  accepted  tradition  at  the  present  day.  These  particular 
bishops  were  certainly  imprisoned  at  Loches  under  the  circumstances 
mentioned  above. 

In  the  Memoires  of  Guillaume  de  Jaligny  (secretary  of  Pierre  de 
Beaujeu)  we  hear  that  in  January  1487  the  Bishops  of  Pcrigueux,  called 
De  Pompadour,  and  of  Montauban,  called  De  Chaumont,  were  found  in 
correspondence  with  Dunois  and  Orleans  in  the  same  plot  in  which 
Commines  was  implicated,  and  which  led  to  the  war  in  Brittany. 
"Pour  ce  sujet,"  says  Jaligny,  "  le  roi  les  fit  un  matin  constituer 
prisonniers,"  and  they  were  interrogated  before  the  officers  of  the 
Archbishop  of  Tours.  So  this  same  cell  may  have  acquired  an  "odour 
of  sanctity"  even  before  the  conspiracy  of  Bourbon  in  1523. 


LOCHES  {Con finned) — THE  PRISOXS  155 

Bourbon,    just    before    the   defeat   of    Francis    I.   at 
Pavia. 

Bourbon,  who  at  the  time  of  his  marriage  was 
the  most  powerful  prince  in  France,  was  relentlessly 
attacked  after  his  wife's  death  by  the  wicked  and 
avaricious  Louise  de  Savoie.  By  the  aid  of  her 
execrable  tool,  the  Chancellor  Du  Prat,  she  finally 
drove  him  out  of  the  kingdom,  threw  one  of  the 
French  King's  strongest  nobles  into  the  arms  of  the 
Emperor,  and  was  responsible  for  a  career  of  law- 
lessness and  rapine  which  ended  in  the  sack  of 
Rome.  But  Bourbon,  before  he  became  merely 
a  reckless  adventurer,  had  aimed  at  forming  for 
himself  a  kingdom  of  his  vast  possessions  in  the 
heart  of  France,  backed  by  the  forces  of  the 
Emperor,  and  with  England  in  her  old  provinces 
to  the  south.  It  was  in  this  part  of  the  conspiracy 
that  the  bishops  with  whom  we  are  concerned  were 
implicated,  and  they  certainly  suffered  to  the  full 
the  penalty  for  their  imprudence.  Bourbon's  secret 
negotiations  with  the  Emperor  had  taken  place  in 
the  spring  of  1523,  and  though  rumours  of  them 
had  reached  the  Court,  Francis  had  paid  no  attention 
to  them,  and  was  on  his  way  to  Lyons  for  the  march 
that  was  to  end  in  Pavia,  when  the  Sicur  de  lirczc, 
Seneschal  of  Normandy,  husband  of  the  famous 
I)iana,  brought  him  accurate  tidings  of  the  conspiracx', 
which  were  obtained  through  the  confession  of  two 
Norman  gentlemen — iJc  Brczc  had  no  notion  that  he 


is6  OLD  TOURAIXE 


was  implicating  in  this  terrible  charge  his  own  wife's 
father,  Jean  de  Poitiers,  Seigneur  de  Saint  Wallier. 
After  this  warning  the  King  waited  for  further 
reinforcements  at  Moulins,  and  there  met  Bour- 
bon, who  pretended  to  be  ill  and  would  not  see 
him,  fearing  that  the  c\-il  influence  of  Louise  de 
Savoie  would  overcome  the  natural  generosity  of 
Francis. 

In  a  few  da}-s  Bourbon  escaped  to  his  fortified 
castle  of  Chantelles,  and  from  there  sent  the  I^ishop 
of  Autun  to  the  King  asking  for  assurances  of  re- 
stitution to  his  lands  and  goods.  But  the  King's 
deepest  suspicions  had  been  aroused  by  the  flight, 
and  the  bishop  was  arrested  on  his  way  to  L\'ons, 
bearing  the  Constable's  despatches,  and  with  him 
Saint  Vallier,  Emard  de  Prie,  La  Vaugu\-on,  and 
others  of  the  duke's  friends.  Bourbon  meanwhile  went 
on,  stopping  for  one  night  at  Pu\-  in  Au\-ergne, 
probably  with  his  friend  the  bishop,  and  at  length 
after  several  exciting  escapes  got  safe  to  Italy. 

Still  deeper  in  the  hideous  recesses  of  the  rock  of 
Loches,  in  gloomy  caverns  where  the  light  from  our 
small  lamp  could  barely  penetrate  to  the  fungus 
rotting  on  the  slimy  walls,  is  the  den  where  Saint 
Vallier,  the  father  of  Diane  de  Poitiers,  was  shut  up 
by  h'rancis  I.  "  Monsieur  mon  fils,''  he  writes  to  his 
son  the  Seneschal,  "  le  Roy  m'a  faict  prendre  sans 
nulle  raison  .  .  et  m'a  faict  mener  icy  au  chasteau 
de  Loches  comme  un  faulx  traistre  qui  m'est  si  tres 


LOCHES  {^Cotitimicdy  -THE  PRISONS  157 

horrible  regret  que  je  m'en  meurs."  And  to  Diana  : 
"  Madame — suis  icy  arrive  au  chastcau  de  Lochcs 
aussy  mal  traicte  que  paouvre  prisonnicr  pourroit 
estre  .  .  .  je  vous  requiers  ayez  tant  de  pitye  de 
vostre  paouvre  pere  que  de  le  vouloir  venir  veoir."  ^ 
And  Diana  did  her  best,  though  at  first  with  Httle 
success,  for  the  King  wrote  hotly  to  his  judges  to 
press  the  trial,  and  to  find  out  by  any  and  cver\- 
means,  from  Saint  Vallier  and  the  others,  all  the 
details  of  the  conspirac\-.  "  II  faut  necessairement 
ct  promptement  scavoir,"  he  writes,  "  au  bcsoin  par 
torture  qui  sont  les  conspirateurs.  .  .  .  Saint  Vallier 
et  d'Escar  savent  tout." "  Sentence  of  death  was 
with  difficulty  remitted  to  imprisonment  for  life. 
"  Entre  quatre  murailles  de  pierre  magonnees  dessus 
et  dessous,  es  quelles  n'y  aura  qu'une  petite 
fenestre."  ^  It  is  said  that  at  last  Diana's  entreaties 
won  her  father's  freedom  from  the  King,  and  it  adds 
another  memory  to  these  strange  dungeons  to  think 
of  Diana  picking  her  way  through  the  black  passages 
towards  the  cell  where  her  father  lay  waiting  his 
deliverance,  his  hair  turned  white  witli  the  horror  of 
thick  darkness  round  him.  Yiw  longer  is  the  tale  of 
the  prisoners  of  Loches — 

'  M.S.  Kr.,  No.  5109,  fos.  103,  104. 

-  .MS.  I'r.,  Xo.  5109,  fo.  HI. 

•*  In  1525  the  Constable  Hourljon  expressly  stipulates,  in  his  treaty 
with  the  King  <jf  Spain,  for  the  deliverance  of  Saint  N'allier,  so  he 
must  have  been  in  prison  at  least  two  years.  Vox  the  cons|)iracy  of 
UourUm  see  Du  IJellay,  xvii.,  266,  etc.,  Hellef(jrest,  ii.  1434,  etc. 


ISS  OLD   TOUKAINE 


"  Qui  no  sab  de  sospirar 
Vinga  sen  assi  cstar, 
Car  no  sol  sospirara 
Mas  de  dolar  gemir.i, '  ^ 

wrote  one  of  thcin  in  tlic  cachot  of  the  draw  bi  id^^c, 
antl  I  can  imaL;ine  no  place  so  full  of  terrible 
associations  ;  but  only  a  few  of  the  most  important 
have  been  spoken  of  here.  Amont;-  later  prisoners 
was  Charles  de  Lorraine,  Due  d'l'llbieuf,  a  man  of 
little  merit,  who  fell  with  the  rest  of  the  house  of 
Guise  after  the  murders  at  lilois.  De  Retz  has 
summed  him  up  in  a  few  bitter  sentences  as  a  man 
without  heart  and  without  intelligence — "  c'etait  Ic 
galimatias  du  monde  le  plus  fleuri  " — who  lost  his 
nobility  of  character  with  his  riches,  and  forfeited 
every  claim  to  pit)'  in  misfortune. 

More  worthy  of  commiseration,  if  not  more  \\w- 
haj)p\',  was  Francois  de  Rochechouart,  nephew  of 
the  Cardinal  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  who  was  impli- 
cated in  the  various  miserable  Court  intrigues  of 
"  Monsieur  "  in  1633.  For  two  years  he  was  kept 
in  the  walls  of  Loches  by  Richelieu,  without  any 
positive  proof  having  been  brought  against  him,  and 
merely  in  the  hope  of  extracting  some  confession 
from  his  miser\-.  To  the  same  end  he  was  ordered 
for  execution  and  rcpric\-ud  at  the  last  moment,  but 
'  Mrs.  Walts  Jones  gives  the  following  translation  of  the  above — 

"  He  who  sighs  hath  never  known, 
Come  within  these  walls  of  stone  ; 
Here  not  only  shall  he  sigh, 
He  shall  groan  in  miserj'." 


LOCHES  {Co)itinucd)—THE  PRISONS  139 

nothing  would  shake  his  determination  to  keep  silence, 
and  he  finalh'  left  France  for  Italy  until  the  King's 
death.  No  wonder  that  amid  so  many  gruesome  real- 
ities one  fable  has  arisen  that  has  even  received  the 
support  of  serious  authorities.  A  certain  Pontbrillant, 
Governor  of  Loches,  had  the  unpleasant  curiosity  to 
investigate  the  inmost  recesses  of  its  prisons.  Several 
iron  doors  were  broken  down,  and  at  last  behind  one 
of  them  was  found  the  body  of  a  man  sitting  with 
his  head  upon  his  hands,  of  great  stature,  and  clothed 
like  a  knight  of  three  centuries  ago.  The  corpse  fell 
into  dust  on  contact  with  the  outer  air.  Here  is 
much  matter  for  a  traged}'.  But  what  is  known 
and  certain  is  sadder  than  an\-  imagination,  and 
nothing  in  the  castle  leaves  so  deep  an  impres- 
sion as  the  scratches  and  lines  upon  the  walls  with 
which  the  prisoners  strove  to  lighten  the  weariness 
of  their  cells  or  to  keep  some  thought  of  hope 
within  their  hearts.  Here  is  one  more  (jf  these 
inscriptions,  with  whose  graceful  sentiment  we  left 
behind  us  the  blackened  walls  of  Loches — 

"  Qui  vaut  mieux  amour  ou  justice  ? 
Et  se  tousiours  amour  estoit 
Da  point  justice  ne  faudroit 
Pour  cc  que  amour  est  follie 
Lt  loin  justice  estaljlie,  Rcsponcc 
.Amour  vaut  micux." 


ClIAPTl'lR     IX 

LANGEAIS 

"  Anne,  qui  fut  femme  de  deux  grands  rois  ; 
En  tout  grande  cent  fois,  comme  reine  deux  fois. 
Jamais  reyne  comme  clle  n'enrichit  tant  la  France, 
Voyla  que  c'est  d'avoir  une  grande  alliance.  " 

BrantoME,  .4/i>te  Je  Bretague. 


\\'i:  had  already  heard  much  of  iVnnc  de  Brctagne 
in  the  course  of  our  wanderings 
along  the  Loire,  and  after  seeing 
licr  oratory  at  Loches  it  became 
impossible  to  put  off  any  longer 
a  visit  to  the  hall  where  she  was 
married  in  Langeais.  The  road 
from  Toiu's  to  Langeais  is  a 
straight  and  good  one,  whether 
for  riding  or  driving,  and  follows  the  right  or  north 
bank  of  the  river  past  Luynes  to  Cinq  Mars,  where 
the  railwa}'  crosses  over  too,  and  follows  the  road  ^ 
into  Langeais  between  the  river  and  a  hill  upon  its 
banks. 

The  village  at  first  sight  does  not  look  attractive, 


^  The  hitrh  road  from  Paris  to  Angers. 


vol..  I 


M 


LAXGEAIS  163 

but  there  is  one  good  main  street,  from  which  num- 
berless little  alleys  open  out  lined  b\-  tiny  cottages, 
and  ending  in  a  strip  of  green  or  garden  ground. 
At  the  end  of  this  street  rise  two  vast  round  towers 
that  from  a  distance  look  far  too  big  for  their  sur- 
roundings, and  it  is  not  till  the  visitor  is  fairly  in  the 
little  square  beyond  the  house  of  Rabelais,  and  face 
to  face  with  the  main  entrance,  that  he  can  realise 
the  full  proportions  of  the  Chateau  of  Langeais. 

Alingavia,  says  M.  IVIabille,  was  one  of  the  oldest 
of  the  Roman  settlements,  and  Roman  remains  are 
still  traceable  in  the  foundations  of  the  old  donjon 
keep,  rebuilt  in  1000.  Gregory  of  Tours  tells  us, 
too,  that  St.  Martin  built  a  church  here,  and  the 
present  edifice  contains  some  of  the  early  work  near 
the  east  end,  which  is  triapsal  ;  ^  some  old  shafts  and 
arches  are  arranged  on  the  south  side  so  as  to  form 
a  covered  walk  externally.- 

But  of  the  buildings  within  the  castle  walls,  of 
which  distinct  traces  arc  still  left,  the  fort  built  b)' 
Foulques  Nerra  to  blockade  Eudes  at  Tours  is  the 
oldest.  Little  but  the  outer  shell  of  its  walls  and  a 
few  traces  of  masonry  about  the  w  indow  s  remains,  but 
from  the  little  hill  on  which  it  stands  can  be  obtained 
the  finest  view  of  the  inner  side  of  the  chateau. 
"The    interior    court"—   1    qu(jte    from    Mrs.    Mark 

'  Henry  I'ciit,  op.  cit. 

-  In  1 1 18  the  I'ulk  of  Anjou  who  Jicd  upon  tlic  llirone  of  Jeru- 
salem in  1 142,  built  a  chapel  at  Langeais,  and  fuunded  a  collegiate 
church  for  his  relics  from  Palestine. 


1 64  OLD   TOi'A'A/XE 

Pattison  ' — "  is  almost  wholly  confined  by  the  build- 
ings around  it;  the  hit;!!  walls  which  defend  it  on  the 
outside  arc  cut  u[)  at  well-j.;uardcd  ani^ies  b)-  massive 
towers,  and  pierced  at  irregular  intervals  by  narrow 
openings.  The  whole  length  is  crowned  by  heav}- 
machicolated  battlements,  so  that  the  aspect  of  the 
exterior  is  severe,  but  tlic  facade  which  looks  upon  the 
court  is  not  wanting  in  elegance.  Four  small  towers, 
each  of  which  contains  a  spiral  staircase,  break  the 
monotony  of  the  front  and  give  access  to  the  dif- 
ferent stories.  The  interior  space  is  divided  out  iii 
the  simplest  fashion,  and  the  arrangements  adopted 
on  the  ground  floor  continue  in  unvarying  repetition 
tier  above  tier.  But  above,  along  the  roof,  run  no 
heavy  battlements  ;  a  bold  projecting  cornice  takes 
their  place  in  surmounting  the  wall,  and  over  this 
rises  a  sharply  pointed  roof,  the  outline  of  which 
is  broken  b}-  towers  and  pierced  by  chimneys  and 
dormers." 

I  have  quoted  thus  far  to  make  quite  clear  the 
exact  position  of  Langeais  in  the  architecture  of 
Touraine.  It  is  a  fortress  of  the  Middle  Ages  that 
is  one  of  the  finest  existing  examples  of  a  I"'rcnch 
castle  built  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  centur\-, 
and  bears  upon  its  very  walls  the  traces  of  coming 
change.  The  cornice,  which  at  Langeais  replaces 
the  battlements  on  the  walls  of  the  inside  onl\-,  is 
destined   soon   to   replace   them  on   the  outside  also. 

^  7'he  Renaissance  of  Art  in  France,  vol.  i.  cap.  2. 


LAXGEAIS  165 

"  At  Chenonceaux,  at  Azay-le-Ridcau,  at  Blois,  at 
Chambord,  its  bold  projecting  lines  encircle  each 
building  with  a  crown."  We  had  seen  the  older 
forms  of  feudal  architecture  at  Chinon  and  at 
Loches  ;  Langeais  seemed  the  connecting  link  be- 
tween the  older  order  and  the  new.  The  problem 
which  its  architect  had  to  solve  was  to  combine 
a  stronghold  capable  of  defence  with  a  house  cal- 
culated for  the  increasing  necessities  of  daily  life  ; 
the  fortifications  seem  planned  on  a  scale  very  much 
behind  the  science  of  the  times,  for  gunpowder  is 
left  wholly  out  of  the  calculation,  while  every  means 
for  keeping  out  an  escalade  attack  has  been  carefully 
made  use  of:  the  only  gate  that  opens  from  without 
into  the  court  is  flanked,  as  at  Chaumont,  by  two 
massive  towers  and  guarded  by  a  portcullis. 

Of  the  first  building  on  this  site,  after  the  Black 
Count's  donjon  had  fallen  into  ruins,  little  save 
a  few  bricks  remains  to  indicate  that  Romano- 
Gallic  methods  of  construction  still  continued.  A 
later  chateau  was  begun  by  Pierre  de  la  Brosse, 
the  .son  of  a  good  family  in  Tourainc,  who  had 
seen  some  service  in  the  Court  of  St.  Louis,  and 
reached  the  highest  powers  of  a  favourite  under 
IMiilip  III.  Against  all  the  enemies  whom  such  a 
position  naturally  annised  Pierre  was  able  to  make 
a  good  resistance  until  he  imprudently  attacked  the 
reputation  of  the  Queen,  who  jtjinec!  the  barons 
against  him  and  finally  hanged   him  at  Vinccnnes  in 


i66 


OLD  TOCRAIXE 


1272,  on   charges    which    have    remained    unknown 
and  were  probabl}'  designedly  obscured. 

It  is  this  same  old  chateau  \\hich  was  occupied 
by  the  English  during  their  invasions  while  the 
Black  Prince  was  making  his  campaign  along  the 
Loire;   it   was    given    u[)    to    Charles   \'II.   only   to 


PLAN  nF  LANGEAis  (drawn  by  Roy  in  Langeais,  by  M.  Brincourt). 

be  retaken,  and  at  last  the  English  were  bought  out 
of  Langeais  as  they  were  out  of  Rochecorbon  by 
the  combined  subsidies  of  the  citizens  of  Touraine. 

The  Chateau  of  Langeais  as  it  stands  at  present 
was  built  in  1464  under  the  direction  of  Jean 
Briconnct,  first  ma\-or  of  Tours,  b\-  the  care  of  Jean 
Bourree,  minister  of  Louis  XL,  and  gcn'ernor  of 
Langeais,  who  was  also  the  builder  of  Plessis-lez- 
Tours,   a   chateau    which   in    its    complete   state   was 


LAXGEAIS  167 

ver\-  like  what  Langeais  has  remained.  The 
place  is  now  in  the  possession  of  I\I.  Siegfried, 
and,  by  his  judicious  and  tasteful  expenditure  of 
large  sums  of  mone\',  is  being  gradually  brought 
into  one  harmonious  picture  of  oak  carvings, 
tapestry,  and  warm  tiled  floors — the  chimne\-  and 
ceiling  of  the  Salle  des  Gardes  are  especially  beauti- 
ful ;  its  walls  are  painted  by  Lameire  with  the  arms 
of  Anne  de  Bretagne,  whose  cordeliere  reappears  in 
many  other  details  of  the  decoration. 

Perhaps  the  strangest  feature  of  the  place  is  the 
quaint  little  passage  beneath  the  roof,  the  guards' 
"  chcmin  de  ronde,"  formed  by  the  machicolations, 
that  extends  all  round  the  chateau,  lighted  b\- 
innumerable  little  windows  which  give  an  ever- 
changing  view  of  the  valley  of  the  Loire  from  the 
forest  of  Chinon  west  and  south,  to  the  cathedral 
towers  of  Tours  far  off  among  the  mist  towards  the 
east.  But  the  most  interesting  room  in  Langeais  is 
the  great  hall,  where  Anne  de  Bretagne  was  married 
to  King  Charles  VIII.  of  France. 

The  story  of  the  war  in  Brittan\-,  and  the  revolt 
of  Orleans  against  the  Regent  Anne  de  Beaujcu,  has 
already  introduced  us  to  the  little  Breton  duchess. 
Brantome  sketches  her  portrait  in  his  Galler)'  of 
Illustrious  Ladies.  "Her  figure,"  sa}-s  he,  "was 
small  and  delicate.  It  is  true  that  one  leg  was 
shorter  than  the  other,  though  b\-  vcr\'  little,  and  it 
was  scarcely  noticeable,  for  her   beaut)-  was  W)  whit 


i6S 


OLD   TOrRAlXE 


tlaiiia;4ccl  b)'  that,  and  many  very  beautiful  women 
have  I  noticctl  willi  this  same  sh"i;ht  defect  (ccstc 
Icgi'rc  dcfcctiiositc),  such  as  the  Duchessc  dc  Loni^ue- 
ville.  ]-5csides,  there  would  seem  to  be  a  great 
fascination  about   the  walk  of  such  women,  owinij"  to 


ANNF.    nE    liRFTAGNE. 


certain  graces  of  movement  which  are  not  commonly 
found  in  others."  ^  Add  to  this  a  cahn  and  dignified 
carriage,  which  revealed  the  firm  \\ill  and  resolution 
of  character  ripened  at  an  early  age  b)-  the  troubles 
of  the  times.  But  if  Anne  had  thus  far  gained  from 
her  ]-5reton  upbringing,  she  had  all  the  Breton  fault.s, 

^  The  firm  chin  and  .somewhat  large  nose  of  her  face  in  later  life  are 
best  seen  in  the  medal  struck  in  1499,  after  her  second  marriage,  which 
bears  the  legend  "  Lugdun  •  Republica  •  gaudentc  ■  Bis  -Anna  •  regnante 
benigne  •  sic  •  fui  •  conflata. 


LAXGEAIS  169 

the  pride,  the  anger,  and  the  self-will  of  that  strong 
and  narrowed  nationalit}'.  If  her  wishes  were  clearly 
defined,  her  will  imperious,  her  views  were  also 
somewhat  limited  :  she  lacked  the  supple  nature  of 
a  truly  great  woman,  because  she  was  without  that 
loftiness  of  mind  and  intellect  which  allows  its 
possessor  to  appreciate  while  it  criticises  every  form 
of  life  and  manners  with  which  it  comes  in  contact. 
This  is  why  we  find  her  alternately  the  prc\-  to 
pride,  to  anger,  and  to  hate,  to  a  tenacity  of  purpose 
through  good  and  evil  which  degenerates  into  a 
wrong-headed  sullenness.  "  Once  she  has  bethought 
her  of  anything,"  says  Contarini,  the  Venetian 
ambassador,  "  she  must  have  her  wa)',  whether  b\' 
smiles  or  tears."  Similarly  it  is  her  love  of  ven- 
geance, her  unrelenting  hatred,  that  her  paneg)rist 
Brantome  can  alone  find  to  blame,  "  si  la  vengeance 
est  un  s)',  puisqu'elle  est  si  belle  et  si  douce."  It 
was  .she  who  built  the  good  shij)  La  Corddicrc 
which  blew  up  in  action  with  the  ICnglish  fleet  off 
Saint  Mache  in  August  1513. 

A  princess  with  so  strongK^  marked  a  character 
was  not  one  to  let  herself  be  married  at  the  con- 
venience of  her  subjects  or  of  any  man,  and  all 
l-'uropc  had  been  already  .somewhat  amused  at  her 
capture  c)f  ijic  unwilling  .Maximilian  and  her  alliance 
with  ICngiand  and  Spain.  This  could  have  but  one 
result.  Anne's  new  allies  were  by  no  means  inclined 
to    attach    the    importance   to    the    Breton    duchess 


170  OLD  TOURAINE 


which  she  desired,  and  France  was  only  made  the 
more  attcnti\'c  to  the  frontier  and  the  incessant 
quarrels  of  the  lireton  lords.  At  last  the  politic 
and  skilful  Rej^ent  saw  her  opportunit}-.  Making 
e\er}-  use  of  the  influence  over  Anne  possessctl  b}- 
the  \-oun_i;  Duke  of  Orleans  just  released  from  |)rison, 
and  tempting  at  the  same  time  her  ambition  b\-  the 
offer  of  a  throne,  the  Regent  arranged  the  marriage 
of  her  young  brother  Charles  VIII.  with  the  heiress 
of  l^rittau)-.  The  duchess  had  little  scruple  in 
giving  up  her  tardy  lover  Maximilian,  whose  daughter 
had  already  been  somewhat  similarly  abandoned  by 
the  King  of  France,  and  in  December  1 49 1  the 
marriage  contract  of  Anne  and  Charles  \TII.  was 
drawn  up  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Chateau  of  Langeais, 
which  assured  the  union  of  France  and  Brittany,  and 
ga\e  the  business-like  little  l^reton  the  right  of 
marr\-ing  the  next  King  of  France  if  she  outli\cd  her 
first  husband. 

At  this  time  she  was  about  seventeen  years  old. 
The  firmness  of  her  character  was  yet  veiled  by  the 
modesty  and  grace  of  youth,  and  all  her  natural 
courage  and  loyalty  was  conspicuous. 

Strictly  honourable  in  her  life  as  she  was  faithful 
to  her  religion,  she  at  once  took  up  the  authority 
of  her  position  and  grasped  the  meaning  of  affairs 
around  her.  Contarini  describes  her  husband  at  the 
same  period  as  plain  of  visage,  with  great  eyes  that 
seemed    to    see   but    weakly,    an    aquiline   nose    too 


LAXGEAIS  171 

large  for  the  face,  and  thick  Hps  al\va\-s  open,  slow 
of  speech,  and  with  certain  nci'\'ous  movements  in 
his  hands.  Beside  Charles  VIII.,  amoni;"  the  courtiers 
in  the  great  hall  round  her,  stands  Etienne  de  Vesc, 
the  historian,  talking  of  the  manuscript  of  Livy, 
which  he  had  asked  La  Tremouillc  to  bring  back  for 
him  from  Brittany,  and  behind  him  is  the  Marechal 
de  Gie,  looking  somewhat  distrustfully  at  the  new 
Queen,  with  whom  he  is  no  great  favourite,  and 
whose  bitter  hatred  he  will  afterwards  incur. 

Pierre  de  Rohan,  Sire  de  Gie,  of  a  Breton  stock, 
had  the  blood  of  Du  Guesclin  in  his  veins,  through 
his  grandfather's  marriage,  and  b}'  his  mother  was  a 
descendant  of  the  Viscontis.  He  was  taken  from 
Brittany,  where  his  recollections  were  not  of  the  most 
pleasant  kind,^  by  the  Admiral  de  Montauban,  and 
by  him  placed  in  the  Court  of  Louis  XL,  where  he 
learned  to  be  a  good  Frenchman  e\cn  if  he  were  a 
bad  Breton.  In  six  years  he  was  a  councillor  and 
captain  of  the  Chateau  of  Blois,  and,  later  on,  is 
sent  with  Commines  to  Amiens,  where  negotiations 
with  England  were  in  progress,  to  sec  that  nothing 
contrary  to  agreement  was  attempted  by  the  crowd 
of  English  .soldiers  who  had  come  with  their  ambas- 
sador. But  no  especial  watchfulness  was  necessar)-; 
the  ICngHshmcn  were  found  t<i  be  all  dead  diunk. 
lie  was  with   Commines,  too,  when  Louis  was  struck 

'  His  mother  had  poisoned  his  father,  her  first  husb.ind,  and  died 
in  the  dun(^eon  where  her  second  hushand  cautiously  put  hir. 


C72  OLD  TOURAINE 


with  apoplexy  at  Chinon,  and  his  skill  in  diplomacy 
and  Court  affairs  is  evident  from  his  success  in  the 
arrangements  made  for  the  government  of  the  king- 
dom by  Charles  d'Amboise  and  the  rest  in  that  little 
room  beneath  llic  King's  bed,  while  the  terrible 
patient  above  was  stri\"ing  not  to  lose  his  autliority 
uitli  his  failing  strength.  It  is  one  more  proof  of 
his  tact  that,  though  a  member  of  the  Regent  Anne 
de  Bcaujeu's  council,  he  could  yet  remain  a  firm 
friend  of  Louis  d'Orleans,  calm  down  the  revolts  in 
Brittany,  and  finally  be  one  of  the  chief  negotiators 
in  the  marriage  of  the  Duchess  Anne. 

De  Gic  was  uneasy,  and  with  reason,  at  the  con- 
versation of  the  Coiut.  The  King,  who  had  grown 
up  neglected  at  Amboise  with  nothing  to  occupy  his 
thoughts  but  the  romances  of  chivalry  which  Charlotte 
de  Savoie  read  him,  had  only  been  preserved  from 
hazarding  his  forces  sooner  b}-  the  interruptions  of 
the  war  in  Brittany.  But  now  great  movements 
seemed  to  be  in  the  air.  In  the  year  after  his  marriage 
Spain  had  chased  the  Moors  from  Granada,  and 
America  was  discovered  b}'  Columbus.  The  full 
effects  of  the  policy  of  Louis  XL  became  evident  not 
only  in  the  pursuance  of  his  Italian  schemes,  but  in  the 
strength  and  consolidation  of  the  royal  power  which 
made  such  attempts  possible  at  all. 

The  invasion  of  Italy  had  been  a  constant  dream 
among  Frenchmen,  and  now,  amid  the  confusion  of 
Europe,  France  saw  her  opportunity.   The  Mussulman 


LAXGEAJS  173 

raids  from  the  East  had  terribly  exhausted  Hfc  and 
property  in  Italy;  Venice  and  Naples  had  even  been 
so  mad  as  to  use  these  dangerous  neighbours  against 
each  other,  and  make  a  Turkish  invasion  possible. 
There  was  danger,  too,  from  the  West.  Since  1480 
Torquemada  had  made  all  Spain  like  one  vast  furnace 
of  human  flesh,  and  had  turned  out  the  Jews  to  wander 
over  Europe  leaving  plague  and  famine  in  their  tracks; 
twenty  thousand  famishing  spectres  died  before  the 
walls  of  Genoa.  Italy  herself  was  filled  with  prodigies 
and  warnings  ;  men  like  Machiavclli,  in  despair  of 
Divine  help,  had  taken  Policy  for  their  god,  others 
were  listening  to  the  warnings  of  Savonarola,  or 
watching  the  pictures  full  of  the  sombre  teaching  of 
the  grief  of  IMichael  Angelo. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  the  ambition  of  the  young 
Erench  King,  which  had  been  smouldering  since  the 
Venetian  embassy  in  1484,  was  fanned  into  quick 
flame  by  the  messages  of  Ludovico  Sforza — Erance 
should  step  in  to  this  distracted  Italy,  Erance  who 
alone  could  understand  the  message  which  Ital)-  had 
to  give,  who  was  to  make  a  discovery  more  powerful 
in  its  results  than  that  of  Spain  be}-ond  the  ocean,  and 
to  set  in  motion  the  two  great  electric  currents  ;  one, 
called  the  Renaissance,  setting  away  from  Christianit}-, 
the  other,  called  the  Reformation,  tr\-ing  to  get  nearer 
to  it  ;  the  school  of  Rabelais  and  X'oltaire  on  the  one 
side,  the  Puritanism  of  Luther  and  (jf  CaKin  on  ihc 
other. 


174  OLD  TOURAIXE 


Commincs  tells  the  whole  story  of  this  ill-advised 

invasion  of  Italy  "  without  generals,  without  money, 
with  the  impromptu  army  of  a  moment's  whim." 
Let  us  look  closer  at  this  strange  comjjany  tliat  is 
crossing  the  passes  of  the  Alps.  It  is  evening,  and 
through  the  smok}-  glare  of  the  torches  appear  the 
tall  halberds  of  the  first  di\ision  above  their  waving 
plumes,  a  barbarian  division  of  Swiss  and  German 
freebooters,  tall  ruffians  in  many-coloured  tunics  short- 
waisted,  with  tightl)-- fitting  leggings,  and  cuirasses 
onl}-  in  the  front  rank  ;  behind  them  comes  the  short 
quick  step  of  the  small  sunburnt  Gascons,  some  six 
thousand  of  them,  quick  and  hot  fighters,  and  the 
best  marching  men  in  Europe  ;  close  on  their  heels 
are  the  ca\alry  in  full  armour,  each  horseman  accom- 
panied by  his  i)age  and  servants  and  riding  a  monstrous 
charger  without  tail  or  ears  ;  these  are  followed  by 
the  light  cavalry  armed  with  bows,  and  b\'  the 
Scottish  guard,^  behind  whom  rides  the  King  sur- 
rounded by  three  hundred  archers  and  two  hundred 
picked  horsemen  clad  in  gold  and  scarlet  ;  in  the 
rear  are  the  lumbering  uncouth  machines  that  served 
as   cannon  ;    and   thus    the}'    march    on    towards   the 

^  The  Scotch  botlyguard  at  the  French  Court,  says  Fleuranges  in 
1507,  wore  white  jerkins  covered  with  gold  embroidery,  with  a  crown 
on  their  breasts.  In  Soiiie  Account  of  the  Stuarts  of  Atdngny,  Lady 
Elizabeth  Cust  has  added  an  important  chapter  to  the  interesting  story 
of  the  Scots  in  France  who  had  become  connected  with  the  most 
influential  families  in  Europe  ;  both  Esme  Stuart,  for  instance,  and  his 
wife,  Katherine  de  Balsac,  could  trace  relationship  with  the  Viscontis  of 
Milan. 


I.ANGEAIS  175 

unknown  country,  which  will  receive  them,  much  to 
their  surprise,  as  something  superhuman  and  Divine, 
and  suffer  itself  to  be  swiftly  conquered  ;  too  swiftly 
to  be  safely  done  :  but  the  Alps  might  now  be  sunk 
into  the  sea — the  boast  of  Cicero  was  true  again  though 
with  a  changed  meaning  ;  the  nicnintain  passes  had 
been  often  crossed  before,  but  never  had  so  much  been 
carried  home  again  by  the  returning  soldiers. 

It  was  a  distracted  countrj'  this  Italy  through 
which  the  stampede  of  the  )'oung  French  King's 
army  rushed  almost  unhindered,  a  countr\'  where 
Leonardo's  frescoes  and  Bellini's  ^Madonnas  looked 
down  upon  crimes  equal  to  those  of  the  INIedicis  and 
the  l^orgias  ;  where  the  burning  words  of  Savonarola 
taught  the  people  submission  to  the  scourge  of  God  ; 
where  Capponi  roused  the  burghers  to  enthusiasm  for 
their  new  French  patron,  and  opposition  to  \-oung 
Piero  de  Mcdicis,  the  mortal  enemy  of  France.  But 
Picro  had  made  no  plans  for  defence  and  no  schemes 
for  alliance,  and  found  himself  at  last  obliged  to  lea\e 
liis  Florentine  palace  and  his  )-oung  son  Lorenzo  the 
father  of  Catherine  de  Medicis)  and  meet  the  French 
King  in  his  camp.  There  was  a  great  contrast  in 
the  two  men  :  the  handsome,  graceful  Italian,  arrogant 
and  proud  as  he  was  cruel,  and  the  small,  high- 
shouldered  P'rcnchinan  looking  sickl\-  and  but  half 
grown  u|j,  yet  with  the  bright  e)x-s  that  j^romised  a 
kindly,  honest  nature,  aiifl  a  p<n\er  over  his  soldier)' 
that  sent  them  to  the  death  in   fivhtin-f  for  his  sake 


176  OLD  TOUR  A  INK 

A  third  contrast  was  added  by  the  presence  of 
Ludovico  Sforza,  ^\h()  was  ah'cad}'  beginning  to  be 
perplexed  at  the  \-oung  King's  success,  and  now- 
found  that  Charles  had  completely  outwitted  the 
Florentine  and  secured  all  the  best  side  of  the 
bargain  for  Italian  lands  and  monc)'. 

In  November  1494  the  l'"rcnch  troo[)s  were 
marching  through  the  streets  of  Pisa,  gay  with 
decorations  and  crowded  with  a  wildly  enthusiastic 
populace,  crying  "  Libcrte,  Liberte,"  and  casting  down 
the  great  lion  that  represented  the  hated  Signorie  of 
Florence  from  its  pillar  over  the  bridge  of  Arno  ;  in 
a  few  days  the  King's  statue  was  there  in  its  place  ; 
"  but,"  says  Commines,  "  the)-  have  since  done  with 
the  King  as  they  did  with  the  lion,  for  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  Italians  to  do  pleasure  to  the  strongest, 
though  these  Pisans  had  received  such  harsh  treat- 
ment (from  Florence)  that  they  ma\-  be  excused." 
Charles  himself  was  compelled  by  circumstances 
stronger  than  his  inclinations  to  behave  with  little 
kindness  to  this  harassed  town  of  Pisa.  No  sooner 
had  he  left  the  town  upon  his  way  to  Florence,  than 
the  impossibility  of  his  promises  became  clear— to 
support  Pisa  was  to  give  deadly  offence  to  Plorence, 
for,  saj's  Commines,  "  Pise  leur  est  plus  grande  chose 
que  Florence  propre,  sauf  les  corps  et  les  meubles." 

But  the  young  King  was  too  much  the  slave  of 
his  first  honest  impulses  to  thrive  in  the  land  of 
Machiavelli  ;    he    could    not    see    much   farther  than 


LANG  E  A  IS  177 


the  successes  of  the  present.  The  whole  expedition 
was  equally  uncertain  in  its  movements  and  its  aims  ; 
triumphal  entries  into  Naples,  Florence,  even  Rome 
itself,  availed  nothing  ;  the  advice  of  Briconnet  and 
De  Vesc  weighed  as  little  with  the  young  King  as 
did  the  more  jjrudcnt  counsels  of  Commines  or  the 
Marechal  de  Gie,  and  when  the  great  league  against 
the  French  with  Venice  at  its  head  became  a  fact 
accomplished,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  retreat 
which  all  but  ended  in  disaster. 

The  army  had  made  another  Capua  of  Naples 
and  delayed  the  homeward  march  too  long-;  it 
was  stayed  still  further  by  the  attractions  of  the 
Pisan  ladies,  and  now  Louis  d'Orleans  was  blockaded 
in  Novara.  At  last  they  were  caught  b}-  the  enemy 
at  the  foot  of  the  Apennines,  and  death  stared  them 
in  the  face.  "  La  peur,"  says  Commines,  "  venait 
au.x  jjIus  braves."  Then  De  Gic  with  Jean  Jacques 
Trivulzio  and  a  handful  of  men  took  Pontremoli, 
crossed  the  steep  pass  and  came  down  near  Fornova 
close  to  the  enemy,  who  were  camped  by  the  river 
Taro,  swollen  with  floods.  W'liilc  De  Gic  with 
difficulty  held  his  dangerous  position  between  the 
river  and  the  hill,  the  French  army  laboriously 
climbed  the  same  slopes  he  had  crossed  before,  and 
for  six  daj's  with  bleeding  hanrls  dragged  tluir 
cannon  and  their  baggage  across  the  pitiless  rocks, 
in  danger  all  the  time  of  being  cut  to  pieces  by  the 
enemy's  attack.  But  the  Italians  waited  ;  the  Bishop 
VOL.  I  N 


I7S  OLD  TOUKAIM: 


of  St.  Malo  and  Philippe  dc  Commincs  tried  negotia- 
tions, but  thc\'  failed,  and  the  fight  soon  began.  The 
King  rode  at  the  head  of  his  troops  and  showed 
himself  as  brave  as  any  of  his  men,  and  though 
fighting  one  against  six  the  French  at  last  cut  their 
way  through  with  the  loss  of  s(jmc  two  hundred  men 
against  four  thousand  of  the  enemy. 

Even  then  the  advice  of  the  more  prudent  was 
rejected  ;  the  Breton  commanders  and  St.  Malo 
would  not  recognise  that  there  was  nothing  left  but 
an  honourable  retreat  ;  it  was  only  the  terrible  news 
that  kept  pouring  into  the  camp  from  all  sides  that 
at  last  decided  Charles  to  advance  towards  rest  and 
help  at  Asti  and  Turin.  A  peace  was  patched  up 
hastily,  chicfl\-  through  the  negotiations  of  Commines, 
and  the  King  got  back  to  Lyons,  where  after  two 
months  came  the  news  of  the  death  of  the  little 
Dauphin,  whose  tomb  is  in  the  cathedral  of  Tours. 
This  sorrow  seems  to  have  been  far  more  bitterly  felt 
by  the  mother  than  by  Charles,  and  Anne's  feelings 
were  still  further  hurt  by  the  ill-restrained  joy  of 
Louis  d'Orleans,  who  felt  himself  a  step  nearer  to 
the  throne  of  France.^ 

^  Commines  relates  how,  with  a  strange  idea  of  lightening  the 
sorrows  of  the  Queen,  Charles  had  in  several  young  courtiers  to  dance 
before  her,  "  et  entre  les  autres  y  etait  le  due  d'Orleans  qui  pouvait  bien 
avoir  trente  quatre  ans."  The  duke  seems  to  have  put  more  joy  than 
sympathy  into  these  ill-timed  capers. 

An  unusual  reason  is  given  for  Charles's  own  lack  of  sympathy — 
"ledit  Dauphin,"  continues  the  same  authority,  "avait  environ  trois 
ans  bel  enfant  et  audacieu.x  en  parole ; "  and  the  little  King  seems  to 


LAXGEAIS  i8i 

In  April  1498  the  King  died  suddenly  at 
Amboise,  in  the  same  spring  which  saw  the  m;ut\-r- 
dom  of  Savonarola,  and  Anne  de  Bretagne  became 
for  a  short  time  a  widow. 

Langeais  seems  to  have  justified  its  existence  by 
providing  a  shelter  for  the  Breton  Queen,  and  neither 
before  nor  after  that  event  is  there  much  of  interest 
or  importance  in  its  histor}-.  But  before  bidding 
it  farewell  there  is  one  more  memory,  a  ver}-  different 
one.  that  cannot  but  detain  a  traveller  in  the  land  of 
Rabelais. 

In    1534   the  chronicler  of  the  Heroic  Deeds  of 

Pantagnicl  was  in  Rome  with  Du  Bellay,  and  for  the 

next  ten  \'ears  remained  under  the  protection  of  that 

house,    until    the    death    of    Du    Bellay,  "  Sieur    de 

Langey,"  in    1543.      We  can   imagine  the  laughter 

that  rang  through  the  halls  of  Langeais  as  the  jovial 

doctor  discoursed   with   his  patron  of  the  customs  of 

Paris  and  of  Rome  ;  what  would  not  any  of  us  gi\e 

for  an  hour's  such  talk  with  Rabelais  ?      Of  the  four 

great   French   prose  writers  of  the  sixteenth  century, 

says    Sainte-Beuve,   Rabelais   remains   more   [popular 

than    Calvin    or    than    Amj'ot,    more    amusing    than 

Montaigne  ;    nor    should    we    .see    by   the    chimney 

corner  at   Langeais  a  man  such  as   Rabelais  paints 

himself  in  his  book  ;   uc  shouKi  see  a  man  of  science 

have  fcarc-ii  comparisrjii  with  his  own  sliortcomings  ;  "  niais  clait  si 
Ixjii,  qu'il  n'cst  iM)ssihlc  dc  voir  mc-illcur  crc.iturc. "  liven  in  an  attempt 
at  censure  Comniincs  cannot  withhold  his  hkinj^  for  the  Ixmot,  ii^^ly 
Charles. 


iS2  OLD  TOURAINE 


and  of  study,  a  man  of  good  company  above  all,  of 
jests  and  jokes  incomparable.  Man)'  ha\c  admired 
Rabelais  without  a})preciatinL;'  him,  more  still  have 
read  into  his  honest  satire  opinions  that  he  ne\er 
meant,  and  doctrines  that  suited  the  leanings  of  his 
critics  ;  he  has  been  called  the  precursor  of  the 
Revolution,  the  apostle  of  humanitarianism,  by  an  age 
that  thought  it  honoured  him  in  the  appellation, 
but  he  was  neither  ;  he  was  but  the  frank,  cnit- 
spoken  critic  of  his  time,  a  man  who  wrote  and 
spoke  for  men  in  a  rougher  and  less  fastidious  age 
than  ours.  "  A  nation  should  always  possess  one  such 
man,"  says  Sainte-Beuve,  "but  more  than  one  is 
dangerous." 

Langeais  was  troubled,  we  have  it  on  the  authority 
of  Pantagruel,  at  the  passing  of  "  the  generous  and 
heroic  soul  of  the  learned  Chevalier  de  Langey." 
"  II  m'en  souvient  (dist  Epistemon)  et  encore  me 
frissonne  et  tremble  le  cceur  dedans  sa  capsule,  quand 
je  pense  es  prodiges  tant  divers  et  horrificques." 
His  friends  and  servants  all  in  terror  looked  on  one 
another  in  silence,  without  a  word  for  the  thoughts 
that  were  within  them  of  the  loss  to  the  glor\-  and 
safety  of  France  in  so  perfect  and  good  a  knight. 
Let  any  one  read  this  chapter  in  the  Fourth  Book, 
and  the  next  one  telling  of  the  loud  voice  that  called 
across  the  silence  of  the  sea  from  l'ax(js,  and  cried 
to  the  sailors  of  Epitherses,  "  Pan,  the  great  god,  is 
dead."      Let    any  one   read    these,   and    he    will   no 


1  I  I-.:: 


IQHWtdfcyji^l- 


ikl'm 


^1  *', 


,  HH  fcH  tiiL£ 


LAXGEAIS  185 

longer  leave  his  Rabelais  to  curious  scholars,  or 
condemn  him  as  beneath  the  notice  of  the  virtuous.^ 
In  later  years  Langeais  often  changed  owners.  In 
1 63  I  it  passed  from  the  hands  of  Louise,  daughter 
of  Henri,  Due  de  Guise,  to  those  of  Cinq  IMars, 
Marshal  of  France,  and  in  1765  to  the  Due  de 
Luynes.  After  another  century  of  changes  it  came 
into  the  possession  of  its  present  owner,  M.  Siegfried. 
No  ancient  castle  could  possess  a  better  chatelain  ; 
all  its  old  beauties  are  preserved,  and  the  necessities 
of  a  more  complex  modern  life  are  introduced  with 
a  care  and  an  artistic  feeling  that  leave  no  sense 
of  incongruity  or  incompleteness.  Nor  are  the 
charms  of  Langeais  limited  to  its  castle  walls.  The 
park  that  stretches  out  upon  the  hill  behind  the 
donjon  of  Foulques  Nerra  is  as  full  of  beauty  of  its 
own  kind  as  the  chateau.  As  we  wandered  through 
it  on  a  da\^  whose  sudden  showers  made  every 
gleam  of  sunshine  lovelier,  we  passed  several  caves 
in  the  soft  rock  by  the  side  of  the  winding  road, 
which  might  have  been  the  traces  of  a  subterranean 
passage,  and  finally  stopped  where  the  path  through 
tangled  trees  led  to  a  little  knoll  crowned  by  a  pillar 
with  an  eagle  on  its  capital  ;  from  here  there  is  a 
fine  view  of  the  windings  of  the  Loire  and  the  pretty 
little    susjDension    bridge    that   leads    to   Candcs    and 

'  For  the  "  (lernicr  mot"  on  Rabelais  and  llie  hillicrtn  unknown 
Bernard  .Salignac  to  whom  he  attributes  all  his  knowled^je,  see  A'a/'tiais 
et  son  mailrc,  by  Arthur  Ilculliard,  Paris,  A.  Lcmerre. 


iS6  OLD   rOUKAIXE 


Anjou,  close  to  where,  as  Dumas  tells  us,  poor 
Monsieur  Surinlcndaiit  I'DiKjuct,  Hying  tlown  tlic 
stream,  became  convinced  that  he  was  being  chased 
by  Colbert  in  the  ugly  eight-oared  galley  that  was 
following  him. 

The  river  and  its  banks  are  quiet  enough  now, 
and  as  we  passed  them  in  the  gathering  twilight  on 
our  way  to  Tours,  the  resolute  figure  of  the  small 
Breton  Oueen  came  back  to  us  and  left  a  stirringr 
memory  of  the  halls  of  Langeais. 


CHATTER    X 

CHAUMOXT 

"  Laissez  faire  a  Georges." 

ChaU.MONT  i.s  within  a  couple  of  hours'  drive  from 
Blois,  alon<4  the  same  road  that  skirts  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Loire  for  some  distance  both  east  and 
west  from  Tours. 

The  river  flows  southward  from  Blois  as  far  as 
Chouzy,  and  then  taking  a  sharp  turn  to  the  west 
passes  under  the  magnificent  bridge  which  connects 
the  villages  of  Chaumont  and  Onzain.  From  this 
bridge  there  is  one  of  the  finest  views,  among  many, 
of  the  sweeping  current  of  the  Loire.  The  forest  of 
Blois,  which  we  had  left  behind  us,  just  shows  above 
the  house-tops,  and  across  the  river  the  towers  of 
the  castle  rise  upon  the  wooded  hill  and  dominate 
the  little  village  by  the  banks. ^ 

'  Kvclyn,  in  1O44,  saw  tliis  view  from  anoilior  direction  scarcely  less 
1)cautiful. 

On  2n(l  -May  lie  writes  in  the  Diary.  "We  tool<  hoate,  passinjj  by 
Charniont  {ii(),  a  proud  castle  on  tl)e  left  hanii  ;  i)eforc  it  is  a  sweete 
island  dcliciously  shaded  witii  tall  trees." 


iSS  OLD   rOURAINE 


In  the  time  of  the  early  Atifrevin  Counts,  Chau- 
mont  was  one  of  the  outposts  of  the  Counts  of  Hlois 
towards  their  enemies'  country,  and  was  given  to 
Gelduin,  Lord  of  Saumur,  after  T'oulques  Nerra  had 
so  sudden!)-  turned  liim  out  of  his  own  castle  b}'  the 
famous  niL;"ht  attack,  which  owed  its  supernatural 
swiftness — so  men  said — to  the  help  of  the  de\il. 
The  son  of  this  Gelduin  was  the  first  of  that 
famous  famil}-  of  D'Amboise  which  was  to  give  so 
man\'  celebrated  names  to  the  history  of  J^'rance, 
and  the  Chateau  of  Amboise  itself  seems  to  have 
originally  formed  part  of  the  same  estates.  But 
Amboise  was  too  far  off  from  Blois  and  too  near  the 
formidable  Counts  of  Anjou  and  Touraine  to  remain 
in  this  connection  for  long  ;  indeed,  it  was  owing  to 
a  reverse  in  one  of  the  perpetual  wars  with  Henry 
Plantagenet  that  the  first  castle  at  Chaumont  was 
razed  to  the  ground.  It  was  a  few  }-ears  after  the 
new  building  had  arisen  that  Henry  II.  met  Thomas 
a  Becket  here  for  the  last  time  before  the  arch- 
bishop's murder ;  and  just  before  it  was  again 
completely  destroyed  there  was  born  here,  in  1460, 
the  most  famous  of  his  race,  Georges,  Cardinal 
d 'Amboise. 

This  second  destruction  was  due  to  the  political 
blunders  of  Georges'  father,  Pierre  d'Amboise,  who, 
after  assisting  Louis  XI.  as  Dauphin  in  the  con- 
spiracies of  the  Praguerie,  was  so  ill-advised  as  to 
oppose  that  astute  monarch  later  on  in  the  rebellion 


CHAUMOXT  1S9 


called  the  "  War  of  the  Public  Weal."  His  punish- 
ment, the  destruction  of  his  chateau,  suited  at  once 
Louis'  principles  of  summar\-  justice  and  his  policy 
of  weakening  the  nobles  on  ever}'  possible  occasion. 

But  the  family  of  D'Amboise  was  too  powerful  to 
remain  long  without  a  home,  and  in  a  few  years  the 
chateau  which  still  exists  was  built  at  Chaumont  by 
Philibert  de  I'Orme.  It  is  not  a  palace,  and  in  com- 
parison with  the  gigantic  bulk  of  Chambord  seems 
of  merely  ordinary  dimensions,  but  it  is  compact  and 
perfect  in  itself,  depending  wholly  on  the  corner 
towers  for  the  necessary  amount  of  "  perpendicular 
accent,"  and  showing  very  clearly  the  transition  which 
we  had  already  noticed  at  Langeais  from  the  fortress 
to  the  later  chateau.  There  are  still  the  two  great 
towers  that  guard  the  entrance,  and  on  the  left  side 
towards  the  river  another  tower,  that  binds  together 
the  corners  of  the  corps  dc  logis,  rises  above  the  line 
of  roofs,  and  plunges  boldly  downwards  in  one  sweep- 
ing line  through  brakes  and  brambles  to  the  foot  of 
the  hill. 

The  whole  chateau  was  originally  built  b)-  Charles, 
the  brother  of  the  Cardinal,  who  also  held  high  office 
in  the  State,  in  the  form  of  a  quadrangle,  but  the 
fourth  side  towards  the  river,  which  existed  in  i6Si,^ 
was  pulled  flown  by  I\I.  dc  Vaugien,  a  Parisian  niagi- 
.stratc,  t(j  whom  the  dfjuiain  bchjngcd  in  I  739.  The 
space  thus  opened   out   forms  a  magnificent   terrace 

'  I'clibicn,  Mhnoires  inhlils  sur  les  inaisons  royalcs  dc  France. 


igo  OLD  TOURAIXE 


looking  out  upon  the  Loire  and  backed  by  the  main 
buildings  of  the  castle  whicii  have  latcK'  been  re- 
stored ;  and  with  l)e  \'it,ni)''s  help  it  is  (juite  possible 
to  imagine,  behind  the  broad  windows  that  line  the 
court)'ard,  the  festive  Marcchal  de  Bassompicrre 
entertaining  the  compatu'  witli  his  stories  of  IIcnr\' 
IV.  and  the  Princess  of  Condc,  while  \-<)ung  Cinc] 
Mars,  "  in  a  fine  mclanchoK-  "  at  the  other  end  of 
the  table,  is  forgetting  his  dinner  to  watch  the  bright 
eyes  of  Marie  de  Gonzague  for  the  last  time  before 
he  rides  away  from  Chaumont  to  the  Court. 

On  the  left  hand  of  the  entrance  gate  is  the 
Cardinal's  hat  and  coat-of-arms  of  Georges  d'Amboise, 
while  the  porcupine  of  his  master,  Louis  XII.,  is  on 
the  inside  of  the  wing  that  joins  the  entrance  towers. 

The  rise  to  power  of  the  future  favourite  was  rapid 
and  precocious.  At  fourteen,  when  the  new  Chau- 
mont was  scarcely  risen  from  its  foundations,  young 
D'Amboise  was  made  Bishop  of  Montauban,  and  \ery 
soon  became  the  almoner  of  King  Louis  XI.  in  a 
Court  where  he  would  have  the  best  of  training  in 
the  art  of  holding  his  tongue  and  managing  politi- 
cal intrigues  e.xpcditiousU'  and  quictl\-.  Of  this 
sagacity  he  soon  gave  procjf  In  the  conspirac)-  of 
Louis  d'Orleans  against  Anne  de  Beaujeu  he  was 
arrested  with  Commines  for  complicity  in  the  plot, 
but  by  making  use  of  the  bold  defence  that  if  he  had 
persuaded  Charles  VIII.  to  leave  the  protection  of  the 
Regent    he   had    also   clearly   acted  on  the  express 


CHAUMOXT  191 


wishes  of  the  King,  he  met  the  chief  charge  of  his 
accusers  and  escaped  the  cage  and  imprisonment 
from  which  Commines  suffered  at  Loches. 

D'Amboise's  connection  with  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
was  judiciously  maintained  during  the  whole  of 
Charles  \"III.'s  reign,  and  while  Louis  was  governor 
of  Xormand}-,  D'Amboise,  as  Archbishop  of  Rouen, 
was  of  material  assistance  in  crushing  out  the  brigand- 
age and  violence  which  were  rampant  at  that  time 
in  the  north  of  France.  Later  on,  he  was  w  ith  the 
duke  at  Asti  and  Novara,  and  supported  with  his 
patron  the  charge  of  malpractices  which  was  again 
brought  against  them  on  their  return  from  Italy. 

In  a  short  time  the  Duke  of  Orleans  was  Louis 
XII.,  and  Georges  d'Amboise  found  himself  one  of 
the  chief  supporters  of  the  throne  of  France. 

But  higher  dignities  still  were  to  come  to  D'Am- 
boise from  the  Italy  which  had  just  been  somewhat 
ingloriously  left.  Amidst  the  numerous  intrigues  of 
the  Papal  Court,  Ca:sar  Borgia  found  himself  in 
need  of  one  more  dupe,  of  an  instrument  by  whose 
means  he  could  influence  the  powerful  Court  of 
France,  and  whose  personal  ambition  would  be 
served  by  a  closer  connection  with  the  politics  of 
Rome  ;  a  Bri^onnet  had  already  been  fcjund,^  another 
like  him  was  .soon  forthcoming  ;   Georges  d'Amboise 

'  After  D'Amlx)ise's  death  there  is  yet  another  French  ecclesiastic 
who  is  ready  to  play  the  .same  role,  the  infamous  Du  I'rat,  the  Chancellor 
of  L<juisc  de  Savoie.  liiragues,  of  the  St.  Bartholomew,  is  another 
instance  later  on. 


192  OLD  TOURAIXE 


answered  all  the  requirements  of  Ca;sar  Borcjia,  and 

to  all  tlic  (larin;^  of  15riconnct  he  added  a  greater 
shrewdness,  a  more  capable  intellect,  and  a  more 
assured  position  of  command.  An  opportunity  soon 
offered  itself  for  the  Papal  Court  to  fulfil  its  promises. 
The  unhappy  Jeaimc  do  France  had  from  the 
first  been  disliked  by  her  husband,  and  it  onl)^  needed 
the  touch  of  pathos  which  Scott  has  supplied  in  the 
suggestion  of  her  own  unrequited  passion,  to  com- 
plete a  picture  of  distress  and  misery  rarely  found  in 
the  story  ot  a  French  princess.  Louis  XII.,  when 
King,  was  only  too  glad  to  add  reasons  of  State 
to  his  own  personal  repugnance,  and  with  singular 
brutality  ^  to  repudiate  this  faithful  and  uncomplain- 
ing wife.  Jeanne  died  in  1504  at  Bourges,  and 
Anne  de  Bretagne  reigned  in  her  stead.  It  is  not 
impossible  that  certain  recollections  of  the  young 
duchess  during  his  campaign  in  Brittany  may  have 
come  back  to  Louis  after  the  death  of  her  first 
husband  had  given  him  the  throne  ;  in  any  case 
the  care  for  her  own  future  which  the  Breton  had 
shown  in  the  marriage  settlement  at  Langcais  now 
had  its  result.  For  the  second  time  Anne  was  a 
Queen  of  PVance,  and  for  the  second  time  the  usual 
businesslike  agreement  was  drawn  up  as  to  her  own 
estates    and    property  —  it    will    be    seen    that    the 

^  Jean  Bouchet  {Panegy7-iqne  de  la  Ti-cmotiille)  gives  a  far  too  Halter- 
ing account  of  tliis  transaction  ;  for  what  actually  happened  see  Pro- 
cedures Poliiiqiies  dii  regnc  de  Louis  XIL.  (M.  de  Mauldo),  in  wliich  is 
also  the  Life  of  the  Marechal  de  Gie. 


CHAUMONT  193 


Strongly-marked  characteristics  of  her  earlier  years 
show  themselves  in  a  far  more  decided  manner  during 
this  second  period  of  her  power.  Though  Anne  never 
really  cared  for  the  true  interests  of  France,  she  was 
only  too  glad  to  join  D'Amboise  in  managing  the 
King,  and  the  bitterness  of  her  disappointment  at 
having  no  male  issue  warped  her  pride  and  natural 
tenacity  into  a  fatally  misguided  policy  from  which 
France  was  only  saved  by  her  death. 

It  was  in  the  preliminaries  to  this  royal  marriage 
that  Rome  began  to  show  her  influence  with  the 
Court  of  France.  The  papal  bull  necessary  for  the 
King's  divorce  was  brought  to  Chinon  by  Ciesar 
Borgia,  and  the  same  hand  gave  Georges  d'Amboise 
his  Cardinal's  hat.  Michelct,  describing  the  statue 
on  the  Cardinal's  tomb  at  Rouen,  one  of  the  finest 
monuments  of  the  time  in  France,  calls  it  a  peasant 
face  ;  it  is  certainly  no  courtier  that  kneels  there  in 
his  flowing  robes  before  the  carving  of  his  patron 
saint  slaying  the  dragon,  but  it  is  far  more  than  a 
peasant :  a  peculiarly  square  head,  with  deep,  low 
cj'cbrows,  long  upper  lip,  heavy  jaw,  and  that  firm- 
ness of  character  expressed  in  c\cr\'  line  of  bone 
and  muscle  which  seldom  goes  w  ilh  [physical  beauty, 
but  seldom  fails  to  be  impressive.  This  is  no  peasant 
parvenu,  no  Jean  lvalue,  but  a  noble  from  the  vallc)' 
of  the  Loire,  who  had  but  gi\en  up  the  dignities  of 
his  own  state  t(j  please  the  King  wh(jm  he  had  served 
before  the  little  Dauphin's  death  had  given  Orleans  a 
V<jL.  1  O 


19-1 


OLD  TOi'N.l/X/': 


throne,  the  King  wliosc  weakness  lie  thnroughl}'  un- 
derstood and  vigorously  guided,  and  \\li<ise  strength, 
whiih  consisted  in  a  gciuiinc  lo\e  for  the  j^eople  of 
l''rance.  D'Amboise    knew  ei-jually  well  how  to  direct 


'■lA  V*. . 


CARDINAL   D'aMROIS)'. 

drawn  from  the  tomb  in  Rouen  Cathedral,  carved  by  Roulaiid  Lcroux). 

into  broad  schemes  of  national  securit}'  and  unflinch- 
ing administration  of  justice.  If  Louis'  blunders  in 
foreign  politics  could  be  redeemed  at  all,  the\'  were 
redeemed  by  the  internal  administration  of  his  king- 
dom ;  the  evil  counsels  of  the  Italian  Borgia  or  o^ 
his  Breton    wife   were   counterbalanced    by  the   good 


CHAUMOXT  195 


order,  the  econom\-,  and  the  reforms  introduced  by 
Cardinal  d'Amboise  into  the  French  Government, 
which  was  sorely  in  need  of  help  after  the  disorders 
of  the  last  reign. 

And  if  the  Cardinal  might  fairl\'  be  reproached 
with  an  exaggerated  ambition,  a  great  longing  for 
the  highest  place  which  the  Church  had  to  offer,^  it 
was  an  ambition  to  which  even  stronger  heads  than 
his  were  to  give  way — the  patriotism  of  W'olsey  was 
no  more  free  from  the  desire  for  the  tiara  than  were 
the  schemes  of  the  French  Cardinal,  to  whom  the 
Englishman  has  so  often  been  compared.  No  other 
man,  say  his  contemporary  critics,  was  so  fitted  for 
the  papal  throne  as  Cardinal  d'Amboise ;  and  the 
help  of  a  countr}-man  in  so  exalted  a  position  would 
have  been  of  no  slight  service  to  the  King  of  France, 
who  never  saw  his  way  clearly  through  the  shifting 
kaleidoscope  of  European  politics,  and  came  utterly 
to  grief  after  the  Cardinal's  death. 

It  is  difficult  to  be  severe  in  judging  a  king  who 
stands  almost  alone  in  his  affection  for  every  class  of 
his  subjects.  Torn  in  sunder  by  the  disputes  of  the 
great  barons  of  Charles  VI. 's  reign,  harassed  b\' 
the  terrible  English  invasions,  with  no  comprehen- 
sion of  the  tortuous  policy  of  Louis  XI.,  and  !io 
sympathy  with  the  scatterbrained  chivah}'  of  his 
son,  the  people  of  I'rance  welcomed  u  ith  a  uin'vcrsal 

'  There  is  a  medal  of  this  time  willi  the  lieail  of  the  Cardinal  on  one 
si<ie  an<l  on  the  other  the  papal  tiara  and  keys,  with  the  legend  "lulit 
alter  honores." 


196  OLD  TOUR  A  INK 


outburst  of  p^ratitudc  the  rest  and  relief  from  taxation 

whicli  this  "  l^itlicr  of  his  Coinitr\' "  j^^avc  llK-m,  a 
rest  which  was  (>nl\'  to  be  a  brief  Ijrcatliing-space 
before  the  renewed  restlessness,  the  extravai^ant  ex- 
penditure of  the  rei^n  of  Francis  I. 

Nor  was  Louis  XI 1.  a  Kinu;'  apart,  a  monarch 
unseen  and  unappreciated.^  h'rom  his  faxourite 
home  at  Blois  he  had  for  long  exercised  a  bene- 
ficent, if  somewhat  unthinking  and  indolent,  influence 
over  the  central  populations  of  the  ^■alle\'  of  the 
Loire.  The  young  duke  who  appears  in  the  high- 
shouldered  fur  cape  with  its  long  sc^uared  sleeves,  in 
the  round  velvet  cap  that  hides  the  lowness  of  the 
forehead  and  the  heavy  straight  black  hair  of  the 
portrait  in  the  Gaignieres  collection,  had  grown  into 
a  stout,  good-humoured,  idle  King,  with  full  thick 
lips  and  heavy  cheeks,  a  King  with  all  the  dreami- 
ness of  Charles  d'Orleans  and  little  of  his  originalit)', 
who  could  rule  respectably  and  comfortably  at  home, 
but  must  fail  hopelessly  whenever  the  quick  initiative 
of  foreign  expeditions  was  demanded  of  him. 

The  young  gallants  of  the  Court  who  had  tasted 
of  adventure  in  the  campaigns  of  Charles  VIII. 
could  not  rest  quiet  upon  this  side  of  the  Alps : 
the  results  of  Caesar  Borgia's  embassy  now  became 
evident  as  well,  and  probably  the  schemes  of  Car- 
dinal d'/\mboisc  in  connection  with  a  possible  elec- 
tion  to  the  papacy  would  have  been  alone  sufficient 

^  See  tlic  panegyric  of  his  reign  written  by  Claude  Seyssel. 


CHAVMOXT  197 


to  induce  the  easj'-going  King  to  a\cnge  his  ill- 
fortune  at  Xo\-ara  and  make  a  fresh  attack  on  Itah-. 
The  proceedings  of  Ludovico  il  i\Ioro  finally  decided 
Louis.  The  story  of  the  defeat  and  capture  of  Sforza 
has  been  already  told. 

This  first  campaign  brought  much  importance  to 
the  Cardinal,  who,  as  the  representative  of  the  King 
of  France,  and  surrounded  by  the  Marshal  Trivulzio, 
the  Bishop  of  Lucon,  the  Seigneur  de  Grammont, 
and  many  other  notables,  received  in  solemn  state  a 
deputation  from  the  penitent  Milanese,  who  "  with 
four  thousand  little  children,  their  heads  bared,  and 
clad  in  humble  garments,"  as  Jean  d'Auton  tells  us, 
came  in  procession  to  entreat  the  favour  of  the 
Cardinal,  who  showed  them  by  the  mouth  of  one 
^Michael  Ris  "  leur  deloyaute  damnable,  inexcusable 
trahison  et  irrcparables  dcfauts,"  and  promised  them 
their  lives  for  the  present  and  an  examination  of 
their  requests  for  the  future  ;  after  which  the  little 
children  passing  before  him  cried  aloud,  "  France  ! 
France  !   misericorde  !  " 

A  still  more  picturesque  scene  followed  shortl)' 
afterwards  at  Pisa.  For  some  time  this  unhappy 
town  had  enjoyed  "  a  hazardous  and  agonised 
attempt  at  liberty,"  while  Fntragues  and  the  l^'rench 
garrison  which  came  in  willi  Charles  \T  1  l.'s  arm)- 
refused  to  leave  the  citadel  and  abandon  Pisa  to 
I'lorcncc,  her  bitter  enemy  ;  and  now  the  P^rcnch 
envoys,    who    had    been    sent    uilh    difficult     words 


198  OLD  TOURAIXE 


of  nefTotiation    conccrninc^   the    detested    Florentine 

suprcniac}',  were  suri'dUiuK-d  l)y  "  ii\'c  or  six  luni- 
drcd "  young  j;irls  dressed  in  white,  w  ilh  two 
a_q;efl  dames  to  lead  them,  and  singing  swcetl)', 
'  dc\ant  I'iinage  de  Xotrc-Dame  commenccrent  les 
pucelles  a  ehanter  taiU  piteusement,  et  de  voix  si 
tres  lamentables  que  la  n'y  eut  h'rancais  ni  autre  a 
qui  du  plus  profond  endroit  du  coeur  jusqu'aux 
\-eux  ne  montassent  les  chaudes  larmes."  With 
their  tears  and  blandishments  they  so  won  the 
hearts  of  the  rough  soldiers  that  fighting  became 
for  the  time  impossible  for  mutual  admiration  ;  the 
influence  of  women  that  was  to  exercise  so  great  a 
power  in  I'^rance  for  the  next  centur\-  had  begun, 
and  had  introduced  one  more  disturbing  clement 
into  the  already  confused  system  of  Italian  politics. 

The  next  campaign  was  more  disastrous  for  the 
arms  of  h'rance,  as  was  indeed  only  to  be  expected. 
The  prodigies  of  valour  performed  by  the  Chevalier 
Bayard  at  the  bridge  of  the  Garigliano,  and  admir- 
ingly chronicled  by  the  "  Loyal  Servitor,"  were  not 
able  to  avert  defeat  from  La  Trcmouille  at  the  hands 
of  the  capable  and  politic  General  Gonsalvo  di 
Cordova. 

Between  Cajsar  Borgia  and  the  Catholic  King 
h'erdinand,  h^rance  had  been  duped.  The  Spaniards 
had  been  let  in  b}'  Naples,  C;esar  Borgia  had 
conquered  the  Romagna  and  taken  in  even  Machia- 
velli,    who     was    to    give    him    immortality.       The 


CHAUMOXT  199 


tragedies  of  the  Witican  had  but  produced  fresh 
compHcations  for  the  French.  Alexander  \'I.  was 
carried  a  blackened  swollen  corpse,  horribly  slain  b}' 
his  own  poisons,  into  St.  Peter's,  and  Csesar  Borgia, 
almost  unconscious  and  weakened  at  the  ver\'  crisis 
of  his  fate  b\-  a  mysteriously  similar  disorder,  was 
chased  out  of  Italy  to  die  obscurely  in  a  skirmish 
fighting  for  John  d'Albret  in  Spain.  The  tiara  had 
been  very  near  to  Georges  d'Amboise,  and  there  can 
unhappil}'  be  little  doubt  that  it  was  his  delaying 
of  the  French  arm}',  for  interested  motives,  within 
reach  of  Rome,  that  hastened  the  disaster  of 
Garigliano. 

But  a  still  greater  blow  to  the  true  interests  of 
France  was  only  just  averted  at  home.  The  mis- 
guided ambitions  of  Anne  de  Bretagne,  dangerously 
strengthened  by  her  Breton  pluck  and  energy,  had 
ver\-  nearly  succeeded  in  giving  to  one  man  the 
crowns  of  France,  Spain,  Austria,  and  the  Nether- 
lands, in  delivering  up  France  to  the  power  that 
was  instinctivel)'  and  most  bitterly  opposed  to  her. 
Her  designs  of  marr\ing  her  daughter  ("laudc  to  the 
child  who  was  to  become  the  Fmperor  Charles  V. 
were  most  fortunately  frustrated  by  the  resolutions 
of  the  Estates  of  Tours. 

But  what  little  good  had  been  effected  b\'  these 
was  .soon  almcjst  annullefl  by  the  blunders  of  the 
League  of  Cambrai.  Venice  was  to  lie  attackcfl,  and 
Genoa  to  be  humbled  f^r  her  presumption  in  tinning 


OLD  rOURAINE 


out  the  aristocratic  part}-  ;  inoiic}'  was  raised  by  the 
disgraceful  method  of  selHni;'  the  wretched  I'isans  to 
their  cruel  masters  in  Florence.  So  ill  begun,  this 
third  Italian  campaign  was  to  continue  with  steadily- 
increasing  ill-success.  The  new  Pope,  Julian  de  la 
Rovere,  who  had  outwitted  Cardinal  d'Amboisc  and 
firmly  established  his  power  in  the  Vatican  and  the 
Romagna,  soon  turned  round  and  joined  Venice 
against  France,  and  Louis  XII.  was  still  further 
weakened  by  the  death  of  his  old  friend  and  stead- 
fast counsellor,  Georges  d'Amboise. 

Though  the  Cardinal  died  an  immensely  wealth}- 
man,  he  had  spent  his  riches  lavishl}-,  and  made  the 
best  use  of  his  opportunities  for  the  encouragement 
of  art  with  foreign  models  and  Italian  workmen  ; 
but  his  loss  as  a  statesman  w-as  far  more  severely  felt. 
The  good  work  he  had  begun  in  Normandy,  "  a\-ec 
le  titre  effrayant  de  reformateur  general,"  he  had 
carried  on  throughout  all  the  tribunals  of  France  by 
means  of  his  celebrated  "  ordonnances."  In  Italy, 
with  the  assistance  of  his  brother  Charles,  Seigneur 
de  Chaumont,  he  had  in\ariabl}'  upheld  the  interests 
of  k'rance  and  guided  the  uncertain  steps  of  the 
King  through  the  maze  of  European  politics  with  a 
hand  that  rarely  faltered  save  when  his  one  great 
fault  became  conspicuous,  his  too  obvious  ambition 
of  the  papal  power.  But  it  is  on  his  home  policy 
that  his  fame  chief!}-  rests — his  revision  of  justice,  his 
measures  for  averting  the  famine  while  the  so-called 


CHAL'MO.\T 


plague  was  devastating  France,  his  swift  repression 
of  brigandage  and  violence. 

His  death,  which  was  felt  as  a  relief  at  the 
Vatican,  was  the  signal  for  confusion  in  the  mind  of 
Louis.  Austria  and  England  were  against  him,  the 
Pope  had  joined  Ferdinand  and  Venice,  and  Louis 
felt  the  necessity  of  rousing  himself  to  action.  A 
new  national  infantry  was  formed  by  La  Palice  with 
a  backbone  of  five  thousand  Gascons,  and  the  young 
Gaston  de  Foix,  the  last  of  the  house  of  Armagnac, 
the  direct  descendants  of  Clovis,  at  its  head.  The 
coun.sels  of  the  veteran  ^Marshal  de  Gie  were  lost  to 
the  King  as  well  at  this  critical  moment.  Some 
years  before  he  had  been  exiled  by  a  disgraceful 
process,  whose  details  only  serve  to  throw  into 
stronger  light  the  honour  and  integrity  of  a  life  spent 
in  loyal  devotion  to  his  country. 

Besides  all  this,  Louis  was  becoming  more  and 
more  perplexed  at  the  attitude  of  ^Margaret  of 
Flanders.  At  all  hazards,  her  father,  IMa.ximilian 
the  Emperor,  must  be  kept  on  the  side  of  France, 
.so  at  all  hazards  a  victory  must  be  won. 

In  the  terrible  da)-  before  Ravenna  tlic  h^'cnch 
advanced  between  a  double  row  of  enemies,  while 
the  Spanish  cannon  "  fired  into  the  I'rench  infantry 
as  into  a  great  target,  and  i^illctl  inc)rc  than  two 
thousand  of  them  before  they  came  to  blows."  The 
Loyal  Servitor  and  Haj-ard  were  fighting  with  the 
rttst,  and   some  sharjj  skirmishing    followed  between 


CV./'    TOrA'.UXE 


the  cavalry  of  both  sides ;  but  it  was  the  firm 
battalions  of  ihc  new  l}'-orL;aniscd  infantry  that  won 
the  day  for  the  French  after  fearful  losses  upon  both 
sides.  Bayard  had  warned  the  yount^  Due  de 
Nemours  to  stay  where  he  was  after  the  battle  had 
been,  decided,  but  Gaston  saw  some  Spaniards 
making  for  Ravenna,  and  could  not  let  thcni  go 
unmolested.  Riding  out,  directly  his  Gascons  had 
told  him  of  their  passage,  he  attacked  them  furiously 
upon  a  narrow  road  with  a  canal  on  one  side  antl  a 
deep  ditch  on  the  other.  He  was  almost  alone  with 
his  cousin  Lautrec,  and  was  soon  surrounded.  When 
his  charger  was  hamstrung,  "  he  leaped  down  and 
sword  in  hand  did  braver  deeds  than  ever  did  Roland 
at  Roncevaux,"  and  fell  with  all  his  wounds  in  front, 
and  fourteen  on  his  face.  Bayard  met  the  Spaniards 
at  the  other  end  of  the  road,  some  ten  miles  on,  and 
not  knowing  of  the  death  of  the  brave  Gaston  de 
Foix,  let  them  pass  safely  on  their  wa\-. 

The  tide  of  fortune  had  completely  turned  against 
the  French,  and  round  the  same  Novara  which  had 
seen  so  many  crises  of  this  unlucky  war,  La  Tre- 
mouille  was  defeated  and  Italy  was  lost.  But  the 
quarrel  over  Milan,  Naples,  and  Sicily  was  not  yet 
fought  out :  Francis  of  Angoulcme,  the  descendant 
of  Valentine  Visconti,  claimed  Milan  because  he  was 
the  heir  to  France  by  rights  that  were  impregnable, 
until  they  were  for  ever  lost  at  Taxia.  The  son 
of  Francis,  when  he  became   Dauphin,   missed   one 


CIIAUMONT 


more  chance  of  ]\Iilan,  and  the  husband  of  Catlicrine 
de  Medicis  lost  all  hope  of  an  Italian  kingdom,  which 
ended  b\-  being  fast  held  by  the  Spaniards. 

The  crown  of  the  two  Sicilies,  which  was  first 
held  by  the  descendants  of  the  Norman  Robert 
Guiscard,  had  been  claimed  b}-  the  house  of  Hohen- 
staufen,  and  was  in  1254  given  by  the  Pope,  who 
somewhat  feared  such  strong  neighbours,  to  the 
brother  of  Saint  Louis,  Charles  d'Anjou.  The  quarrel 
that  inevitably  resulted  was  handed  on  through  Louis 
XL,  to  whom  Rene  d'Anjou  bequeathed  his  rights, 
to  the  Kings  of  P>ance  and  even,  through  the  house 
of  Lorraine,  to  the  Guises,  who  actualK-  rc\ived  the  old 
title,  which  had  belonged  to  Anjou,  of  King  of  Jeru- 
salem.^ The  new  desire  of  national  aggrandisement  was 
joined  to  the  fatal  spirit  of  adventure,  without  losing 
the  old  religious  ideal  that  had  given  nothing  but  a 
visionary  basis  to  the  policy  of  France,  and  usclcssl)- 
wasted  much  I-Vcnch  blood  and  treasure  ;  the  Sicilian 
Vespers  were  not  redeemed  b)-  Marignano,  and  after 
the  reign  of  Louis  XII.  the  story  of  the  French  in 
Italy  -  closes  in  the  defeat  of  Pavia  and  the  excesses 
of  the  Constable  Bourbon. 

In  I  5  13  died  the  Queen,  Anne  de  Bretagne,  at 
Blois.  I-leurange  and  the  Loj-al  Ser\itor  describe  the 
di.strcss  of  Louis  at  the  loss  of  her,  but   besides  the 


'  Crcii^hton'.s  J'n/'ary. 

•  "The  story,"  that  is,  of  the  French  in  the  period  covered  by  tliese 
chapters,  but  it  was  not  until  the  days  of  Nai>olcon  that  it  was  renewed. 


204  OLD  TOUKAINE 


KinfT,  and  the  poor  whom  she  had  assisted  with  her 

ahns,  there  were  not  man}-  to  wlicun  licr  deatli  should 
have  been  a  serious  loss.' 

Louis  seemed  more  bewildered  than  ever  in  his 
attempts  to  distinguish  the  right  path  in  the  "  danse 
Macabre  "  of  European  politics  that  followed.  At 
last,  amid  the  general  quarrelling  Henry  VIII.  of 
England  gave  Mary  Tudor  to  be  wife  of  the  French 
King — a  strong  young  Englishwoman,  who  killed  off 
Louis  within  a  year.  There  would  be  something 
ludicrous,  if  it  were  not  pathetic,  in  the  last  months 
of  this  weak,  easy  -  going  King  ;  he  evidently  was 
quite  at  a  loss  how  to  manage  the  young  princess, 
and  brought  up  his  daughter  Claude,  Louise  de 
Savoie,  even  old  Anne  dc  Keaujcu,  to  try  and  help 
him  humour  her. 

''  lie  had  been  used  to  dine  at  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing, now  he  dined  at  noon  ;  his  habit  was  to  go  to 
bed  at  six,  and  now  he  was  often  up  till  midnight," 
with  the  inevitable  result  of  a  serious  illness  which 
killed  him  by  New  Year's  Day. 

In  1559  Catherine  dc  Mcdicis  was  at  Chaumont. 
She   had  bought   the   propcrt}'  not  so  much   f(jr  her 

^  In  the  Library  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford,  there  is  a 
memorial  of  Anne  de  Bretagne  in  the  two  volumes  of  an  illustrated 
Bible  presented  by  General  Oglethorpe.  The  pictures  were  made  for 
Louis  XIL,  whose  porcupine  is  conspicuous  on  the  frontispiece,  and 
for  his  Queen,  whose  cordeliere  is  repeated  on  almost  every  page  :  it  is 
probably  the  work  of  Jean  I'erreal,  and  should  be  compared  with  the 
same  Queen's  Livre  iVIJcures,  part  of  which  is  in  tlic  Library  of  Tours, 
part  in  the  Bibl.  Nat. 


CHAUMOXT  205 


own  use  as  to  provide  herself  with  a  suitable  ex- 
change for  the  more  beautiful  Chcnonceaux,  \\herc 
her  husband's  favourite  Diana  had  made  herself  so 
fair  a  home;  and  when  the  death  of  Henry  II.  brought 
Catherine  into  power,  she  turned  Diana  out  and 
effected  the  desired  exchange.  But  the  Duchcsse  dc 
\^alentinois  preferred  Anet  and  the  statue  of  Jean 
Goujon  to  Chaumont  and  the  memories  of  Cardinal 
d'Amboise,  so  she  too  hardly  visited  the  castle  at  all, 
and  Chaumont  for  the  next  two  centuries  continualK- 
changed  hands. 

In  1739  Italy  was  again  predominant,  and  the 
chimneys  built  by  M.  le  Ra}'  were  smoking  with  the 
furnaces  that  baked  the  pottery  and  medallions  of 
the  Italian  Nini.  In  1803  ^ladame  de  Staiil,  in 
graceful  exile,  was  chatting  to  Benjamin  Constant  on 
the  long  terrace  above  the  river  —  the  patron  of 
Italian  j^ottcry  had  gone  to  lose  his  fortune  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

The  firm  tenure  of  its  earlier  proprietors  seemed 
nc\er  destined  to  be  repeated  in  the  historj-  of  Chau- 
mont, and  the  castle  saw  se\'cral  more  masters  before 
coming  into  the  possession  of  its  present  owner,  the 
Due  dc  Broglie,  by  whom  the  old  rooms  are  kept  up 
in  all  the  beauty  and  the  interest  of  their  earlier 
days. 

Through  the  Salle  des  Gardes,  all  hung  with 
tapestry,  with  its  Italian  fire-d(jgs  of  wrought  iron, 
the  visitor  is  led  into  the  room  of  Diane  de  Poitiers, 


206 


OLD  TOUR.-UXE 


built   in   the   thickness  of  the   entrance  tower.      Her 

face  looks  down  ujxjn  him  from  the  wall,  a  calm, 
cold  face  beneath  a  crescent,  that  wears  well,  and  w  ill 
not  be  wrinkled  or  defaced  by  passion  ;  the  three 
crescents  and  her  monoi^ram  entwined  "with  the  royal 
H,  show  on  the  old  tilini;;  of  the  iloor. 

The   great  Salle  de   Conscil  when  we  saw   it  was 

in  a  state  of  jirejjara- 
tion  for  a  "  comcdie, 
to  be  played  hy  the 
Tsigancs  from  J'aris," 
said  the  concierge, 
and  much  of  the  fine 
oak  carving  with 
which  the  room  was 
filled  was  hidden  by 
the  stage  and  its 
accessories  ;  but  a 
more  interesting  apart- 
ment is  farther  on,  the 
chamber  of  Catherine 

IKON    CANDLESTICK   (early  fourteenth   centurj-) 

in  the  room  used  by  Catherine  de  Medicis  dc      Mcdicis,     with      itS 
at  Chaumont.  .  ,  , 

ancient  bed  and  cur- 
tains, and  its  old  worn  prie-dieu  beneath  a  curious 
group  carved  in  one  piece  of  oak. 

Here  is  to  be  seen  the  oldest  tapestr}-  of  all, 
worked  in  soft  colours  of  old  rose  and  jjink  ;  beside 
the  door  a  blinded  Love  with  rose -red  \\ings  and 
quiver  walks   on   the   flushing   paths,   surrounded   by 


CIIACMOXT  207 


Strange  scrolls  and  mutilated  fragments  of  old  verses  ; 
upon  the  wall  in  front  are  ladies  with  their  squires 
attending,  clad  all  in  pink  and  p]a\-ing  mandolins, 
while  by  the  stream  that  curves  through  flowery 
meadows  small  rosy  children  feed  the  water  -  birds 
that  seem  to  blush  with  pleasure  beneath  the  willow 
boughs  of  faded  red.  ?kluch  of  the  furniture  of 
Chaumont  does  not  possess  the  antiquity  \\ith  which 
it  has  been  associated,  but  these  impossible  land- 
scapes with  their  quaint  colouring  and  strange  folk 
that  people  them  may  well  have  been  here,  with  the 
old  wrought-iron  candlestick  that  stands  before  them, 
when  Catherine  de  Medicis  was  wearing  the  extin- 
guisher dress  with  its  pink  underskirt  and  deep  fur 
sleeves  in  which  she  is  portrayed  in  the  next  chamber, 
known  as  the  "  Chambre  de  Ruggieri."  Upon  the 
ceiling  of  this  room  are  painted  the  dates  wlien  she 
and  Cardinal  d'Amboise  were  respectively  at  Chau- 
mont, about  a  century  apart,  and  in  one  corner 
the  old  weights  stamped  with  the  fleur-de-lys  still 
suggest  the  reforms  which  D'Amboise  carried  out  in 
the  course  of  his  strong  govenunent  of  h'rance. 

But  a  more  especial  memory  of  him  is  in  the 
chapel,  which  is  built  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross 
with  flamboyant  windows.  h'njm  the  gallery  that 
opens  out  into  the  west  end  from  the  upper  stories 
of  the  hou.sc,  we  could  .see  his  old  red  Cardinals  hat 
>till  hanging  above  the  carved  chair  in  wliich  he  sat 
up(jii  the  altar  steps  ;  there  is  a  portrait  of  him  too 


2o8  OLD   ■JVURAIM-: 


close  b\',  so  wc  were  told,  but  \vc  found   it  hard   to 

rcc()L;nisc  in  this  caxalicr  countenance  with  its  mous- 
tache and  imperial,  and  a  \er)'  "  roxiuL;'  c\e,"  the 
stern  lines  of  the  Cardinal's  ruL;L;"Cfl  face  upon  his 
tomb  at  Rouen. 

We  descended  to  the  court)'ard  ai;ain  hy  the 
great  staircase  which  sweeps  in  bold  cur\ing  steps 
round  the  central  pillar,  and  left  the  castle  still 
thinkinf;^  of  "  The  Last  Judgment  "  that  hangs  in  the 
Chapel  galler)'.  "  The  river  of  the  wrath  of  God," 
and  the  countless  souls  caught  up  to  heaven  or 
dashed  into  the  depths,  seemed  the  true  picture  of 
the  Italy  of  Georges  d'Amboise,  drawn  by  the  real 
conscience  of  Italy  herself,  by  him  who  alone  had 
seized  the  spirit  of  the  time,  the  mighty  Michael 
Ancjelo. 


VOL.  I 


FRANXis  I.,  AGED  34,  from  llie  enamelled  lena-cotta  bust  in  the  possession  of  the 
Marquis  de  Bridieu,  Chateau  de  Sansac,  Loches. 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  M.  Prricat,  Tours. 


CHAPTER     XI 

REIGN    OF    FRANCIS    I. 

"  Pharaoh,  King  of  Egj'pt,  is  but  a  noise  ;  he  haih  let  the  appointed 
time  pass  by. " 

"I  promise  you  the  effects  he  writes  of  succeed  unhappily  .  .  . 
death,  dearth,  dissolution  of  ancient  amities,  divisions  in  State,  menaces 
and  maledictions  against  King  and  nobles,  needless  diffidences,  banish- 
ment of  friends,  dissipation  of  cohorts,  implial  breaches,  and  I  know 
not  what." 


The  house  of  Valois  provided  heirs  for  the  French 

throne  for  loni^  after 
the  direct  line  had 
died  out  ;  the  h'ne  of 
Valois  -  Orlt;ans  had 
come  in  for  a  brief 
space  and  died  witli- 
out  descendants,  Hke 
its  predecessors  ;  that 
cf  Valois  -  An^oulemc  was  now  to  appear,  w  ith 
whom  the  dynasty  was  to  perish  before  the  end  of 
the  century,  blij^htcd  by  the  full  measure  of  the 
rcmrirsclcss  curse  which  Italy  had  laid  on  I*'rance. 
But  this  last  line  bc^an  with  a  splendour  which 


OLD  TOURAIXE 


seemed  to  give  but  little  presage  of  the  ruin  that  was 
to  come  :  there  were  probabh-  few  living  besides  the 
King  himself  who  foresaw  in  the  brilliant  young 
Comte  d'Angoulcme  ^  the  man  who  was  to  undo  all 
the  good  work  of  the  previous  reign  and  reap  the 
full  measure  of  its  errors  and  his  own. 

At  Amboise  we  shall  meet  the  }'oung  duke 
growing  between  the  evil  angel  and  the  good,  his 
mother  and  his  sister  Margaret  ;  there,  too,  beside 
the  grave  of  the  greatest  of  the  Italians  whom  he 
favoured,  we  shall  be  able  to  appreciate  his  claims  to 
praise  as  an  art  patron  ;  but  at  none  of  the  many 
chateaux  of  Touraine,  where  his  influence  is  so 
conspicuous,  can  wc  catch  a  glimpse  of  Francis 
clear  enough  to  serve  as  guide  in  judging  of  his 
character  or  of  the  value  of  his  reign  ;  not  even 
at  Chambord,  that  grotesque  giant  of  the  royal 
pleasure-houses,  the  Chambord  which  l^rantome  saw 
even  in  his  time  but  half  -  achieved,  shall  we  find 
more  than  an  indication  of  his  reckless  expenditure 
and  unmeaning  lavishness  in  the  strange  lab\-rinths 
of  stone  upon  its  roof,  or  a  trace  of  the  onl\-  lesson 
he  could  draw  from  the  intrigues  of  a  misspent 
existence  in  the  cynical  distich  traced  by  his 
diamond  ring  upon  the  lost  window-pane  of  his 
cabinet. 

The  delicate  perfection  of  the  staircase  in  the 
wing  at  Blois,  by  which  the  buildings  of  Louis  XII. 
^   "  Le  grand  garcon  qui  gatera  tout,"  as  Louis  called  him. 


REIGX  OF  FKAXCIS  I. 


were  completed  in  the  reign  of  Francis,  remains  to 
show  that  something  better  than  Chambord  was 
within  the  compass  of  French  art,  and  possibK- 
indicates  that  by  the  good  taste  of  his  wife  Claude, 
who  loved  her  old  home  in  her  father's  favourite 
chateau,  the  strong  and  true  instinct  of  the  national 
school  found  more  support  than  in  the  dilettante 
passion  of  Francis  for  the  teaching  of  Florence  and 
of  Rome. 

Yet  so  full  is  this  Loire  valley  of  the  memor)' 
and  the  praise  of  Francis  that  we  must  stop  for  a 
while,  before  wandering  farther  along  the  river's 
banks,  to  take  some  measure  of  this  prince's  worth, 
and  to  look  closer  at  his  gentle,  mystical  sister. 
Marguerite  d'Angoulemc,  Ouccn  of  Navarre.  Upon 
their  mother  we  have  fortunately  no  need  to  dwell  ; 
in  the  most  iniquitous  trial  of  the  reign,  in  the  most 
horrible  siege  of  that  lawless  generation,  we  shall  see 
traces  enough  of  the  meanness  of  Louise  de  Savoic 
and  the  misgovernment  of  her  despicable  favourite 
the  Chancellor  Du  Prat. 

The  character  of  Francis  docs  not  gain  by  a  close 
inspection  ;  and  in  this  he  is  not  unlilvc  one  of  our 
own  kings,  Richard,  son  of  the  great  Plantagcnet, 
who  figured  as  the  perfect  Paladin  of  ancient  chivalry 
in  many  a  poem  and  romance,  who  wasted  Fnglish 
bloofl  and  treasure  on  visionarx-  and  useless  expedi- 
tions, who  only  used  his  country,  for  the  few  months 
he  ever   spent    in    it,  as    a   means    (jf    raising    fresh 


214  OLD  TOURAINE 


supplies,  and  died  at  last  fighting  for  an  ignoble 
cause  in  an  almost  unknown  corner  of  his  I'rench 
dominions. 

It  is  much  the  same  with  this  Amadis  of  a  later 
Gaul,  who  took  the  Salamander  for  his  device,  but 
came  out  anything  but  unscathed  from  the  furnace  of 
his  destin}-.  Perhaps  no  prince  ever  had  so  great  an 
opportunity,  and  so  lightly  lost  the  chances  of  a  time 
that  was  never  to  return.  "  Le  grand  garcon  "  of  Am- 
boise  remained  a  childish  adventurer,  a  mere  stripling 
in  intellect,  to  his  life's  end  ;  the  mature  }cars  which 
bring  to  graver  men  a  power  of  judgment  and  a  gift 
of  true  perspective  brought  little  to  Francis  but  an 
untimely  weakening  of  bodily  force,  a  fretful  chafing 
at  the  reverses  of  his  fortune.  And  this  is  obvious 
from  a  consideration  of  the  way  in  which  he  met  the 
two  great  influences  with  which  his  reign  was  brought 
in  contact,  the  policy  of  the  Emperor  from  without, 
the  rising  forces  of  the  Reformation  from  within. 
"  The  Emperor  tries  in  everything  to  do  the  very 
reverse  of  what  I  do,"  he  complains  to  the  Venetian 
ambassador  Capello,^  and  a  peevish  sense  of  opposition, 
a  small  personal  rivalr\',  is  all  that  Francis  saw  in  the 
famous  struggle  with  Charles  V.  in  which  he  failed, 
as  he  was  bound  to  fail,  in  matching  the  puerile  and 
unreasoning  passion  of  a  fantastic  chivalry  against 
the  cold  personification  of  an  idea  which  made  up 
the  sombre  character  of  Charles  V.  No  greater 
^  Rel.  lies  Ai)tl>ass.  Venitiens,  Francesco  Giustiniano,  1537. 


REIGN  OF  FRANCIS  I.  215 

contrast  was  ever  presented  upon  contemporary 
thrones  of  Europe  than  the  Hvcs  of  these  two 
princes,  nor  would  it  be  fair  to  judge  of  the  French 
King  b\'  a  comparison  with  his  rival,  who  represented 
the  opposite  extreme  of  thought  and  feeling. 

The  child  of  a  woman  who  lost  her  reason,  a 
sickh',  epileptic  youth, ^  Charles  \'.  grew  up  to  be  one 
of  the  strongest,  the  most  original  figures  in  his  time. 
Strange  ideas  of  mysticism,  of  theocracy,  mingle  in 
this  prematurely  aged  mind,  and  show  themselves 
early  in  the  subtlct\-  and  skill  of  the  practised 
politician.  Losing  the  penetrating  influence  that 
comes  of  human  sympathy,  he  found  nothing  but 
the  dogma  of  authorit\-  left  to  guide  him  in  the  rigid 
and  indifferent  system  of  a  policy  implacable  as  fate. 
Within  three  years  Charles  V.  had  conquered  Monte- 
zuma in  Mexico,  and  taken  Francis  prisoner  at  Pavia, 
yet  against  so  redoubtable  a  foe  the  French  King 
could  only  produce  a  fluctuating  policy  of  ill-phmncd 
sieges  and  cartels  of  defiance.  Accepting  bravel)', 
and  with  a  full  understanding,  the  position  of 
opponent  to  the  Emperor,  Francis  might  have 
joined  in  one  irresistible  league  the  many  forces 
antagonistic  to  the  powers  and  aims  of  Spain  and 
Austria,  have  .secured  the  co-operation  of  ICngland 
and  the  northern  provinces  of  German)-,  and  offered 
a  compact  and  invincible  resistance  to  the  scattered 
armies  of  the   Empire  ;   but  this  he  never  rcali.scd, 

'  Coijjnct,  Fill  lie  la  vicillc  Frame  \dc  I'icillniltiX  caj).  xix. 


:i6  OLD  rOURAINE 


scarcely  attcmjDted.  The  Turks,  who  misi^ht  have  been 
left  as  a  useful  counterpoise  to  the  eastern  cxtremit\-  of 
the  Empire,  and  a  standing  menace  to  Vienna,  were 
alternately  summoned  into  the  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean and  menaced  by  the  empty  threat  of  a  crusade  ; 
so,  too,  the  Protestants,  whose  natural  champion 
Francis  was  against  the  tyranny  of  Spain,  were 
sometimes  encouraged  by  alliances,  sometimes  burnt 
as  heretics  at  the  stake.  The  mistakes  of  Francis 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  his  kingdom  were  not 
redeemed  by  any  benefits  conferred  upon  the 
populace  within,  and  to  the  second  of  the  two 
intluences  of  his  reign  which  were  just  mentioned 
Francis  gives  no  more  enlightened  comprehension 
than  to  the  first. 

If  Francis  had  encouraged  the  reform  at  all,  it 
was  only  with  the  uncertain  faxour  of  a  ro\-al  patron 
of  research  and  letters  ;  the  sx-mj^athies  of  his  sister 
with  Calvin  or  with  Alarot  had  a  deeper  strain  in 
them  that  was  foreign  to  his  nature.  "  Xe  parlous 
point  de  celle-la,  elle  m'aime  trop,"  he  says  to  Mont- 
morency, with  a  selfish  satisfaction  in  her  love  for 
him  that  obscured  any  appreciation  of  the  doctrines 
which  she  favoured. 

Yet  these  doctrines  of  the  Reformation  were 
already  deeply  grafted  in  the  soil  of  France.  By  the 
desolation  of  the  ci\il  wars,  b\-  the  struggle  of  the 
Huguenot  part}'  against  the  forces  of  the  nation, 
may   be    measured    the   depth  and   sincerity  of  the 


KEICX  OF  FK.IXCIS  I.  217 

convictions  from  which  those  doctrines  sprang  ;  and 
these  civil  wars  were  made  possible  by  the  political 
incapacity  of  Francis  I.,  which,  in  spite  of  his 
occasional  generous  and  lofty  impulses,  led  him  to 
precipitate  the  centralising  movement  of  despotic 
monarch}-.  The  same  incapacity  was  renewed  in 
Henr\-  II.,  aggravated  by  a  weakness  of  the  Crown 
which  permitted  the  formation  of  political  parties. 
The  Spanish  marriage  laid  France  open  to  the 
sombre  and  cruel  fanaticism  of  Philip  II.,  and  the 
ruin  was  completed  by  the  insatiable  ambition,  the 
astounding  audacity  of  the  Guises,  favoured  by  the 
protection  of  their  niece,  Marie  Stuart,  on  the  throne 
of  France  ;  the  weakness,  the  irresolution,  the  l>'ing 
spirit  of  Catherine  de  Medicis  abandoned  the  nation 
first  to  one  party  and  then  to  the  other,  and  ended 
in  never  forming  a  national  party  at  all.^ 

The  reign  of  Francis  opened  characteristically 
u  ith  a  magnificent  expedition.  "  Madame,"  he  writes 
to  Louise  de  Savoie,  who  was  left  at  home  as  Regent, 
"  nous  sommes  dans  le  plus  etrangc  paj-s  ou  jamais 
fut  homme  de  cette  compagnie."  One  more  expedi- 
tion to  Italy  was  starting  wilh  all  the  brilh'ancy  of 
which  the  chivalry  of  France  was  capable.  Upon 
the  King's  tomb  in  St.  Denis  the  patient  horses  still 
tramp  up  the  passes  of  the  Alps,  hauling  the  "  grosse 
artillcric,"  ^  while    behind    ihcm  ua\e    the    plumes  of 

*  Coignet,  Francois  /. ,  jj,  xli. 

'  "  II  nous  fachc  fort  de  porter  Ic  lianiois  jiarmi  ccs  .MonlaKncs  .  .  . 


:iS  OLD  TOUKAINE 


the   lansquenets   and    their   lontr   pikes    leading   the 

infiinti'}-,  each  man  w  illi  a  hca\y  arqucbusc  upon  his 
shoulder. 

Just  before  the  battle  the  King  was  knighted  b)- 
Baj-ard.  "  In  truth."  cries  the  good  Chevalier,  "  )-ou 
arc  the  first  prince  whom  ever  I  made  knight  ;  please 
God  you  nc\cr  run  a\\a\'  in  battle."  Marignano,  at 
any  rate,  was  a  glorious  victory,  the  first  great  fight 
the  h^ench  had  won  since  Agincourt.  Bayard,  and 
Pierre  de  Navarre  with  his  "  enfants  pcrdus,"  ^  and 
Lautrec  were  with  the  army  ;  and  Francis  himself 
was  fighting  bravely  with  the  rest,  drinking  the  only 
water  that  could  be  got,  all  befouled  with  blood, 
when  he  was  thirsty,  and  sleeping  through  the 
restless  night  upon  a  gun  carriage.- 

Tt  had  been  better  for  Francis  if  this  splendid 
victory,  the  last  triumph  of  the  feudal  chivalr)-,  had 
ne\'er  been  won  ;   it  was  a  dangerous  precedent,  that 

croyez,  Madame,  que  ce  n'est  pas  sans  peine  ;  car  si  je  ne  fusse  arrive, 
notre  grosse  artillerie  fut  demeuree.  Mais,  Dieu  merci,  je  la  mene 
avec  nioi." — Lettres  de  Francois  I.  K\t.  Mignet,  Rivalite  de  Francois  I. 
et  de  Charles  V. 

^  "  Nos  lansquenets  en  .  .  .  trois  troupes  ...  la  tierce  d'enviion 
quatre  mille  hommes,  que  Ton  appelle  les  enfants  perdus  de  Pierre  de 
Navarre." — Letter  of  Francis  /.  to  Louise  de  Savoie,  \'^th  September 
1515,  Michaud  et  Poujoulat,  i.  v. 

-  Fleurange  "I'adventureux,"  who  was  knighted  by  the  King  after 
the  battle,  gives  many  details  of  the  fighting.  "  Et  demanda  le  dit 
seigneur  (Francois)  a  boire,  car  il  etait  fort  altere.  Et  y  eut  un  pieton 
qui  lui  alia  querir  de  I'eau  qui  etait  toute  pleine  de  sang,  qui  fit  tant  de 
mal  audit  seigneur,  avec  le  grand  chaud,  qu'il  ne  lui  demeura  rien 
dans  le  corps  ;  et  se  mit  dans  une  charette  d'arlillerie  pour  soi  un  peu  se 
reposer  et  pour  soulager  son  cheval  qui  etait  fort  blesse. " 


JiEIGX  OF  FRAXCIS  I.  219 

led  the  unthinking  King  into  the  defeat  of  Pavia  ; 
and  the  glitter  of  foreign  successes  was  by  no  means 
reflected  in  prosperity  at  home,  for  Louise  de  Savoic 
and  Du  Prat  were  paramount  in  the  affairs  of  State, 
and  the  Concordat  had  introduced  a  new  system  into 
ecclesiastical  affairs,  a  system  which  was  to  result  in 
the  rise  of  the  great  political  Churchmen,  the  favourites 
of  kings  who,  by  their  own  dissolute  lives,  were  to 
condone  the  vices  of  their  patrons.  Yet  one  of  the 
greatest  of  these  same  Churchmen  might  ha\c  been 
of  ser\-ice  to  P^rancis  now,  for  he  never  learnt  the 
lesson  which  it  took  a  Richelieu  to  enforce,  that 
France  was  stronger  at  home,  and  relying  on  her 
natural  wealth  and  her  unequalled  situation,  than  she 
could  ever  be  abroad. 

And  now  the  greatest  of  Francis'  opportunities 
was  to  come  and  go.  With  all  the  prestige  of  his 
Italian  campaign,  with  the  borrowed  lustre  of  his 
supposed  protectorate  of  art  and  the  Renaissance, 
Francis  might  well  have  posed  as  the  champion  of 
Europe  against  the  encroaching  powers  of  Spain  and 
Austria,  might  well  have  carried  the  election  against 
the  silent  and  almost  unknown  Charles.  Hut  he 
was  beaten  in  the  election,  and  wasted  the  precious 
time  afterwards  in  the  useless  pageant  of  the  l^'icld 
of  the  Clf^th  of  Gold — a  display  in  which  Henry 
VIII.  could  perhai)s  better  sympathise  with  the 
PVcnch  King  than  an)'  other  reigning  monarch 
would  have  done. 


OLD   TOURAIXE 


All  the  time  his  enemy  was  quietly  plottinc^  and 

C()nil)ining,  strengthening^  himself  at  home,  even 
interviewing  that  same  English  King  soon  after  the 
unprofitable  festival  in  I'Vance  had  ended,  and  quietly 
coming  to  some  ]-:ind  of  earnest  understanding  with 
liim  about  the  ])olic}-  of  lun'ope.  And  }-ct  the  first 
blow  comes  from  I'rancis.  To  the  north  he  sends 
out  the  Due  d'Alcn^on,^  to  the  south  13onnivet,  and 
Lautrec  to  Milan.  The  one  chance  that  presented 
itself  of  crushing  the  Imi)crialists  and  even  Charles 
himself  was  lost,  and  Lautrec  was  ignominiously 
beaten. 

This  last  officer  was  received  but  coldl}-  by  the 
King  on  his  return,  for  Francis  was  sore  at  the  loss 
of  the  coveted  duchy  of  Milan  ;  but  Lautrec  stouth' 
answered  that  the  whole  fault  la)'  with  his  Majesty, 
who  had  been  warned  several  times  that  without 
more  money-  ]\li!an  would  be  lost.  The  King  in 
astonishment  replied  that  four  hundred  thousand 
crowns  had  been  despatched  directly  the  request  for 
them  had  reached  him.  Jacques  de  Beaune  Sem- 
blancay,  Superintendent  of  h'inance,  was  forth- 
with summoned  to  explain   matters,  and  announced 

'  Clement  Marot  celebrates  this  campaign  in  the  verses  beginning — 

"  Devers  Haynault  sur  les  fins  de  Champaigne 
Est  arrive  le  bon  due  d'-^len^on, 
Avec  honneur  qui  toujours  Taccompaigne 
Comme  le  sien  propre  et  vrai  ecusson,"  etc. 

-  The  Swiss  had  deserted  after  the  battle  of  Birocca,  because  their 
pay  was  not  forthcoming.  Lautrec  felt  able  to  speak  boldly  :  he  was 
the  brother  of  the  Comtesse  de  Chateaubriand. 


A'EIGX  OF  FRANCIS  I. 


that  he  had  indeed  received  the  money  for  despatch 
to  Italy,  but  had  handed  it  over  to  the  King's 
mother,  Louise  de  Savoie,  upon  her  express  com- 
mand, and  this  he  was  prepared  to  prove.^  He  was 
thrown  into  prison  by  Louise,  and  for  five  }'ears  he 
was  kept  unjustly  confined  while  her  odious  instru- 
ment Du  Prat  tried  to  heap  up  accusations  against 
the  most  honourable  man  of  his  time,  who  under 
Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII.  had  held  the  same 
perilous  office  without  a  stain  upon  his  character. 
The  very  warrant  which  at  last  condemned  him,  in 
August  I  527,  could  not  bring  any  precise  accusations 
against  the  prisoner,  but  on  a  general  charge  of 
malversation  decreed  his  death  upon  the  gibbet  of 
Montfaucon.  For  six  hours  he  stayed  by  the 
scaffold  waiting  in  vain  for  the  royal  pardon  that 
never  came,  and  at  seven  in  the  evening  was  hanged 

^  See  Du  Bcllay's  Mcmoires  (Marlin  du  Bcllay,  xvii.  221).  The 
scene  is  continued  as  follows  : — "  Le  roi  alia  en  la  chauibre  de  ladite 
dame  avec  visage  courrouce,  se  plaignant  du  tort  qu'elle  lui  avait  fait 
d'etre  cause  de  la  perte  dudit  duche  ;  chose  qu'il  n'eut  jamais  estime 
d"elle,  que  d'avoir  retenu  ses  deniers  qui  avaient  etc  ordunnes  pour 
le  secours  de  son  armee.  Elle  s'excusant  duilit  fait  fut  mande  ledit 
Seigneur  de  Semhlaii^-ay,  qui  maintint  son  dire  etre  vrai  ;  mais  ellc 
dit  que  c'etaient  deniers  que  ledit  .S.  lui  avait  de  longlemps  gardes, 
procedant  dc  I'epargne  fju'elle  avait  faite  de  son  revcnu  ;  et  lui  souten- 
ait  le  contraire." 

On  questions  of  fact  it  is  possible  to  take  Martin  ilu  Ikllay  as  an 
authority,  though  Montaigne  warns  us  against  believing  his  deductions, 
and  being  taken  in  by  all  his  praise  of  Francois  I.  "  I'our  avoir 
I'enlierc  connaissance,"  says  the  essayist,  "  du  roi  l'"ran<,'ois  et  des  choses 
advcnues  dc  sf)n  tenips,  qu'on  s'addresse  ailleurs,  si  on  m'en  croit." 
Even  in  this  episo«le  we  have  to  seek  elsewhere  fui  the  detail  of  the 
disgraceful  condemnation  in  which  this  trial  ended. 


OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


amid  the  indignation  of  the  whole  of  France.^  The 
death  of  tliis  just  ni;in  is  one  of  the  blackest  stains 
upon  the  rcit;n  of  h^-ancis.  Me  should  never  have 
allowed  the  meanness  and  cupidity  of  his  mother  to 
have  such  terrible  results  :  -  but  an  even  worse  in- 
stance of  the  e\il  which  this  despicable  woman  could 
bring  to  pass  was  soon  to  be  seen  in  the  extraordi- 
nary episode  of  the  Constable  Bourbon. 

Anne,  v»ho  was  Regent  in  the  first  years  of  Charles 
\"III.,  had  b\'  her  husband,  Pierre  de  l^ourbon,  a 
child,  Suzaime,  who  had  been  at  first  betrothed  to 
the  Due  d'Alencon  ;  but  feeling  a  greater  attrac- 
tion towards  the  young  Charles,  Due  de  Montpensier, 

^  Clement  Marot's  verses  express  the  feeling  of  the  time — 

"  Lorsque  Maillard,  juge  d'enfer,  menait 
A  Montfaucon  Semblanijay  I'ame  rendre, 
A  votre  avis  lequel  des  deux  tenait 
Meilleur  maintien  ?  pour  vous  le  fairc  entendre, 
Maillard  semblait  homme  que  mort  \a  prendre, 
Et  Semblangay  fut  si  ferme  vieillard 
<^ue  Ton  cuidait  pour  vrai  qu'il  menat  pendre 
A  Montfaucon  le  lieutenant  Maillard." 

One  of  Semblancay's  houses  was  at  Italian,  near  Tours. 

-  There  is  practically  no  doubt  that  Louise  de  Savoie  obtained  this 
money  upon  false  pretences,  stole  or  made  away  with  the  receipts,  and 
sacrificed  Semblancay  to  avoid  discovery,  for  avarice  was  among  her 
many  sins.  She  died  with  fifteen  hundred  thousand  gold  crowns  in 
her  money  chests.  Gaillard  {Hist,  de  Francois  I.,  1769)  quotes  two 
letters,  one  from  Semblan9ay,  the  other  of  her  own,  whicli  conclusively 
prove  these  facts.  In  Sauval  {Antiqidtcs  de  Paris,  i.  482)  are  re- 
ported the  details  of  the  execution  at  Montfaucon,  quoted  from  a 
manuscript  journal,  and  Du  Bouchet  {Annalcs  ifAquitaiue)  describes 
the  long  wait  by  the  gibbet,  and  the  last  words  of  the  old  man  when  he 
found  himself  abandoned  by  the  King.  Even  Bran  tome  cannot  gloss 
over  the  iniquity  of  the  proceedings,  though  he  sliifts  the  blame  as 
much  as  possible  from  Francis  to  his  mother. 


REIGN  OF  FRANCIS  I.  223 

a  younger  son  of  the  great  house  of  Bourbon,  she 
married  her  daughter  to  him  in  spite  of  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  King.  Georges  d'Amboise  performed 
the  ceremony  of  betrothal.  Michclet  has  pointed 
out  the  mistake  made  by  a  daughter  of  Louis  XI. 
in  thus  concentrating  in  the  bold  and  reckless 
person  of  the  young  duke  such  vast  feudal  posses- 
sions.^ A  few  years  after  his  marriage  we  find 
the  duke  with  Louis  XIL  before  Genoa,  and  with 
an  important  command  at  ]\Iilan  ;  later  on  he  is 
with  young  Gaston  de  Foix  at  Ravenna,  and  is 
made  Constable  of  France  by  Francis.  At  Mari- 
gnano  he  is  in  the  vanguard  of  the  army,  which 
had  already  owed  so  much  to  his  care  and  guidance 
in  the  passes  of  the  Alps,  and  in  i  5  1 7  the  King 
himself  assists  at  the  magnificent  baptismal  fetes  of 
the  duke's  son  and  heir  at  ]\Iontlieu.  But  Bourbon 
had  already  reached  the  summit  of  his  fortunes,  and 
a  change  was  at  hand.  The  covetousness  and  rancour 
of  Louise  de  Savoie  had  already  led  her  to  detest 
the  greatness  of  the  Constable  and  the  virtue  of  his 
wife,  and  for  some  time  she  had  been  strixing  to 
prejudice  the  King  against  them.  In  1521  the  first 
blow  was  struck,  the  first  insult  given,  the  command 
of    the     vanguard     was     transferred     to     the     Due 

'  .See  Du  Bcllay"s  Miinoircs,  ami  Marillac,  Vie  dti  Conmlahle. 
The  Constable  united  in  himself  the  various  dignities  of  liourbon, 
Auvcrgnc,  Mont|K;nsier,  l"oix,  and  La  Marche  ;  in  the  south,  Carlat, 
Murat,  an<l  Annonay ;  in  the  east,  Beaujolais  and  iJonibes  ;  besides  the 
possessions  in  I'oitou  and  I'icardy,  which  he  held  as  the  descendant  of 
S'.  F."iii-,  and  the  emoluments  resulting  from  his  public  ofTices. 


224  OLD  TOUKAINE 

d'Alcncon.  Misfortunes  followed  thick  and  fast. 
All  his  three  children  died,  and  were  followed  b)- 
their  mother  to  the  tomb.  This  was  the  moment 
for  Louise  de  Savoie  to  appear.  She  immediately 
laid  claim  to  all  the  lands  of  the  Constable  that  had 
come  to  him  llirouLjh  Suzanne  dc  iMjurbon,  as  bcinc;' 
the  nearer  relation  of  the  two  ;  and  an  even  more 
odious  motive  for  her  hatred  soon  became  apparent. 
Reckless  in  her  desires  as  she  was  imprincipled  in 
action,  Louise  had  conceived  for  the  Constable  a 
passion  which  was  repulsed  with  all  the  aversion  and 
disdain  it  merited.  This  added  the  most  poignant 
motive  to  her  spite.  By  the  machinations  of  her 
creatures,  Du  Prat,  Poyct,  and  the  Advocate-General 
Lizet,  she  at  length  drove  the  Constable  in  sheer 
despair  into  treason  and  exile.  Some  of  his  accom- 
plices we  have  alrcad\-  met  with  in  the  dungeons 
of  Loches.  Bourbon  himself,  his  plots  against  the 
throne  discovered,  fled  out  of  France,^  and  threw 
himself  under  the  protection  of  the  Emperor,  who 
was  but  too  glad  to  receive  so  welcome  an  allw 
The  sequel  is  worthy  of  so  terrible  a  beginning,  and 
the  traged}'  of  his  life  ended  in  the  sack  of  Rome. 

After  two  such  disasters  within  his  kingdom 
the  fortunes  of  Francis  fared  no  better  abroad. 
Li  the  spring  of  1525  a  letter  was  brought  to 
Louise  de  Savoie  from  Pizzighitone.  "  Madame," 
wrote   the   King,  "  pour  vous  faire  savoir  comme  se 

^  The  details  of  the  flight  are  given  in  Du  Bellay's  Manoires. 


REIGN  OF  FA' AX  CIS  I.  225 

porte  Ic  reste  dc  mon  infortuiic,  dc  toutcs  choscs  ne 
m'est  demeure  que  I'honneur  ^  ct  la  vie  qui  est 
sauve."  Pavia  had  been  lost,  the  Kini^  had  barely 
escaped  with  life,  and  the  little  honour  he  had  left 
was  to  be  cast  aside  in  the  bitter  trial  of  his  cap- 
tivit}-.  It  was  in  great  part  his  own  want  of  general- 
ship which  had  lost  the  battle — he  made  an  attack 
in  front  of  his  own  guns  "  tellement  qu'il  couvrit  son 
artillerie  et  lui  ota  le  moyen  de  jouer  son  jeu  "  (Du 
Bellay).  Cut  off  by  the  enemy  completely,  he  had 
his  horse  killed  under  him,  and  was  borne  to  the 
ground  and  taken  prisoner  ;  Bonnivet  and  old  Louis 
de  la  Tremouille  were  killed  fighting  by  his  side  ; " 
Chabannes  fell  with  the  vanguard  ;  the  Marechal  de 
Foix,  the  Bastard  of  Savoy,  and  many  more  were 
captured  by  the  enemy.  After  some  delay  the  King 
was  moved  to  Madrid  and  kept  a  close  prisoner  in 
the  castle. 

France  was  now  depri\cd  not  only  of  the  head  of 
her  Government,  but  of  many  of  her  best  counsellors 
and  fighting  men.  Bayard  had  been  wounded  to  the 
death  in  the  retreat  from  Biagrasso,  and  the  Lo}-al 
Servitor  had  watched  his  burial  in  tlic  Monastcre  dcs 
Minimes,  near  Grenoble. 

The  good   Queen   Claude    had   died,   loo,   at   her 

'  The  origin  of  the  famous  "Tout  est  purdu  furs  riionncur." 
-  Du  Ikllay  dcscriljcs  the  battle,  and  .Seliasiicn  M<jreau  gives  more 
details  alKJUt  the  jiart  which  the  (jutlawed  Duke  of  .Suffolk  and  tiie 
exiled  Constable  UtnV  in  the  fighting.     I'"or  portraits  of  La  Tremouille 
and  Dc  la  Falissc  (Chabannes),  see  BiOl.  Nat.  Estampes,  (J.  b.  iS. 

VOL.  I  ii 


226  OLD  TOURAINE 


chateau  of  l^loi.s,  lcavin<^  her  three  sons  and  two 
daughters  to  tlic  care  of  Marguerite,  the  loving  sister 
of  the  King,  \\liose  husband,  D'Alencon,  died  of  shame 
at  his  disgrace  at  Pavia.  And  now  Francis  began 
to  fret  himself  into  a  mortal  sickness  behind  his 
prison  bars.  All  Europe  began  to  feel  some  sym- 
l):ith\'  for  his  misfortunes — the  sympathy  of  the 
Spanish  ladies  soon  grew  into  a  warmer  feeling;  but 
the  captive  King  grew  worse  and  worse,  and  the  cold 
Emperor  remained  relentless.  In  alarm  at  what 
might  happen,  Marguerite  set  out  for  Spain.  The 
keynote  of  her  character  is  this  passionate  love  for 
Francis,  which  acknowledged  no  fault,  recognised  no 
failing  in  her  ideal  hero.  As  she  travels  slowly 
southwards,  when  there  is  no  one  by  to  watch  her 
tears,  she  consoles  herself  with  writing  down  her 
gentle  words  of  grief ;  the  litter  moves  too  slowly  for 
her  fears — 

"  Une  heure  me  dure  cent  ans 
Et  me  semblc  que  ma  litiere 
Ne  bouge  ou  retourne  en  arriere, 
Tant  j'ai  de  m'avancer  desir." 

So,  later  on,  will  this  patient  "  Madame  Oisellc  " 
write  her  HcptaDieron,  as  the  litter  swings  through 
the  pleasant  roads  of  France  while  Brantome's 
grandmother  sits  by,  to  amuse  her  brother  in  his  last 
failing  months  of  life,  l^ut  at  this  time  deliverance 
did  not  come  from  her,  though  she  brought  the  King 
encourafjement  and  health.      Her  letters  to  him  after 


REIGN  OF  FRAXCIS  I. 


227 


she  had  left  Madrid  to  try  and  negotiate  for  his 
release  ^  touchingl}'  show  how  soon  her  hopes  of 
success  were  to  be  disappointed.  The  Emperor  was 
not  a  man  to  be  influenced  by  her  personality,  or 
agree  with  her  requests.-  A  useless  proposal  for 
abdication  was  all  she  could  brin<i  back  to  France. 


MARGLEKITE    d'aNGOULBME,    QUEEN    OF    NAVARRE,  sistCr  of  Fiancis  I. 

After  this,  for   a    time,  she   is   ncjt   jjnjmincnt   in 

^  .See  Lanz,  Corrcspoudancc  de  Charles  J'.,  p.  179.  An  accuuiu  of 
her  first  interview  with  the  Emperor  at  Toledo  was  rcKl  to  the  I'arlia- 
ment  in  Paris  at  the  silting  of  19th  October  1525.  "II  nic  tint  fort 
iMjns  et  honnctes  jjropos,"  she  writes  to  Francis. 

-  ]iatx)u  writes  to  Montmorency  on  5th  Octcjber  of  tlie  second  in- 
ter\iew  :  "  La  nous  ont  ete  tcnus  les  phis  liaules  termes  jus(|u'aux 
menaces.  II  leur  a  ete  reponihi  doucement."  .\nd  .Marguerite  tells 
the  King,  "Je  voyais  bien  qu'ils  elaient  empeches  de  nioi,  me  voulant 
rendrc  contente  sans  rien  vouloir  fairc  do  la  raison."  And  above: 
"  II  y  avait  en  cux  pcu  d'honneur  on  beaiicoup  de  maiivais  vouloir." 


228  OLD  TOURAIXE 


politics.  She  married  Henry,  Kinc^  of  Navarre,  who 
had  escaped  iVdin  his  guards  after  l'a\'ia,  and  had  a 
daughter,  the  famous  Jeanne  d'Albrct,  who  was  to 
marr)'  Antoinc  de  lk)urbon  and  be  the  mother  of 
Henry  IV.,  le  bon  licarnais,  the  witty  husband  of 
another  Marguerite  far  different  from  this  first  one. 

So  in  her  quiet  cultured  Court  at  Nerac  Mar- 
guerite of  Navarre  lives  for  these  next  }'ears  apart, 
laughing  over  the  jests  of  Rabelais,  talking  with  the 
Du  Bellays  of  the  College  de  France,  thinking  often 
o\er  the  more  serious  subjects  of  which  she  had 
written  to  her  good  friend  the  Bishop  of  Meau.x 
during  the  first  distresses  of  the  war,  and  giving  a 
refuge  to  Cah  in  and  a  helping  hand  to  Estienne, 
bus\-  o\-cr  his  Latin  I'ible. 

At  last  the  impatient  royal  prisoner  was  released, 
and  galloped  across  the  frontier  to  Bayonne,  leav- 
ing his  children  in  his  stead  as  pledge  for  the 
extravagant  promises  which  he  had  onl\-  made 
to  break. 

The  countr}'  was  sadly  in  need  of  guiding  and 
of  government,  but  l-'rancis'  first  thought  is  to 
escape  the  serious  tasks  of  business  and  the  toil 
of  State  affairs,  and  to  compensate  himself  for 
the  imprisonment  that  had  already  undermined  his 
strength,  by  fresh  luxury  and  excitement  among 
the  ladies  of  his  Court.  One  of  the  results  of  the 
negotiations  for  his  release  had  been  his  engage- 
ment to   Eleanor,  sister  of  the   Emjoeror,  a   woman 


REIGX  OF  FRANCIS  I.  229 

of  a  pronouncedly  German  type,  of  great  kindness 
and  little  wit,  with  a  dash  of  the  romantic  in  her 
character  that  had  shown  itself  in  an  early  attach- 
ment to  the  Prince  Palatine  P'rederic,  her  companion 
at  the  Court  of  Lorraine.  Her  features  were  strongly 
marked,  and  she  had  the  true  Austrian  lip  ;  for  the 
rest,  a  pink  and  white  face  with  black  curved  brows 
and  smiling  ej-es.^ 

But  this  was  not  enough  to  content  the  roving 
Francis,  in  a  Court  where,  as  Brantome  tells  us, 
"  toute  la  decoration  vcnait  des  dames."  Ilis  first 
mistress  was  Francoise  de  Chateaubriand,  of  the 
famous  house  of  P'oix,  but  at  Ba}onne  he  remem- 
bered that  it  was  quite  ten  )-ears  since  she  had  first 
attracted  him,  and  looking  among  his  mother's  maids 
of  honour  for  some  newer  flame  to  stimulate  his 
jaded  senses,  he  lighted  on  the  young  Anne  de 
Pis.seleu.  To  see  was  to  conquer,  and  l^rantome 
relates  how  he  put  off  the  old  love  and  took  on  the 
new,  apparently  quite  forgetting  his  betrothed  Plleanor 
in  the  whole  transaction. 

Meanwhile  very  diftcrent  scenes  were  going  on  in 
the  unhappy  towns  of  Italy.  Bourbon  had  come 
back  at  the  head  of  the  imperial  troop.s,  joined  b}' 
the  ruffians  who  had  been  attached  to  I'reundsberg. 
Don  Pedro's  men  were  in  the  north,  tlic  "  bandcs 
noires "  of  Jean  de  Mcdicis  in  the  south,  the 
Lorrainers    in     Naples,    and    town    after    town    was 

'     Vicdil   /'■'!■"",    /■;,',//,/.      'II .:i,.l.-    I   i." 


230  OLD  TOUR  A  INF. 


ravaged    and    destroyed    by    freebooters,    who    had 

ah-ead)'  swept  the  countr\-,  and  left  but  httlc  fur  the 
starving  peasants. 

With  such  a  state  of  things  in  Ital}-,  and  sucli 
a  man  as  lk)urbon  ready  to  dare  an}-thing  in  a 
despairing  bid  for  fortune,  a  catastrophe  was  in- 
evitable. He  offered  himself  as  the  leader  of  this 
cut-throat  rabble,  and  they  received  him  \\itli 
enthusiasm.^ 

.\  standard-bearer  on  the  walls  of  Rome,-  earl}-  in 
May  1527,  suddenly  saw  some  of  Bourbon's  soldiers 
and  their  chief  himself  advancing  through  the  vines. 
His  consternation  betrayed  a  weak  place  in  the  de- 
fence. In  a  moment  the  whole  of  this  infernal 
companx'  are  in  motion  pouring  down  upon  the 
Eternal  City  from  the  hills  behind  the  \'atican  like 
vultures  upon  their  pre\-.  At  the  first  alarm 
Benvenuto  Cellini  had  caught  up  a  musket  like 
the  rest,  and  running  to  the  ramparts  had  the 
address,  as  he  tells  us  himself,  to  pick  off  the 
leader  with  a  shot  in  the  groin.'-  The  reckless 
exile  was  dead,  and  amid  scenes  which  were  a 
fitting  ending  to  the  last  terrible  months  of  his 
existence.      The  desperadoes  behind  him  poured  into 

^  One  of  their  drinking  songs  ended — 

"  Calla,  calla,  Julio  Cesar,  Annibal  y  Scipion, 
Viva  la  fama  de  Bourbon  I  " 

-  He  was  guarding  "la  muraillc  da  bourg  Sainl  Pierre."  —  Du 
Bellay. 

3  See  Life  of  Benvenuto  Cellini,  by  J.  A.  Synionds,  vol.  i.  p.  91, 
and  note. 


REIGX  OF  FKAiVCIS  I. 


Rome  unchecked,  and  the  most  ghastly  horrors  of 
a  sack  began,  that  spared  neither  age  nor  sex,  and 
desecrated  sacred  and  profane  ahkc.  Where  Goths 
and  Vandals  of  an  earlier  age  had  feared  to  tread, 
these  ruffians,  the  offscouring  of  the  most  brutal 
mercenary  corps  in  Europe,  burnt,  pillaged,  mas- 
sacred, and  gorged  themselves  with  plunder  until 
the  plague  broke  out  in  the  desolated  cit\',  and  the 
soldiers  had  to  fly  for  safety  to  the  open  country 
from  the  streets  choked  with  the  most  hideous  forms 
of  death.^ 

At  the  same  time  there  was  terrible  distress 
throughout  France,  for  the  heavily-taxed  peasantry 
were  shivering  and  half- starved  in  the  provinces, 
while  their  "  theatrical  prince"  was  spending  thousands 
on  a  thriftless  Court.  There  is  a  great  change  in 
Francis  on  his  return  from  Madrid.  A  beaten  King, 
a  King  who  publicly  repudiates  his  promised  word, 
can  no  longer  pose  as  the  champion  of  European 
chivalr)'  ;  and  even  within  his  kingdom  his  prestige 
was  waning.  Lautrec  was  dead,  Charles  was  once 
and  for  all  established  in  Itah-  and  acknowledged  as 
the  most  powerful  prince  in  Europe,  and  in  France 
the  Reformation  had  already  split  up  the  Court  into 
parties  whose  formation  the  King  felt  himself  too 
weak  to  crush. 

'  Du  licllay  gives  a  short  account  of  the  t.iking  of  Koine  ;  Inil  a 
tcrriljly  realistic  i)icture  of  the  scenes  that  followed  will  l>e  found  in 
the  Sack  of  Home,  by  Jacques  l'ona])arte  ((irst  part  in  Italiriii,  at 
Cologne,  1756). 


232  OLD  TOURAINE 


In  September  1531  a  welcome  and  unexpected 
sum  of  mone\'  came  into  the  Kin;4's  trcasur)'.  llis 
motlier,  Loui.se  de  Savoie,  died,  leaving  enough 
treasure  for  the  King  to  complete  the  payment  of 
his  ransom  and  to  begin  the  equipment  of  another 
arm\-.  lie  had  probably  never  realised  the  extent  of 
this  woman's  avarice  and  wickedness.  The  firmness 
and  courage  which  she  could  occasionally  show 
obscured  faults  to  which  even  a  son  should  not  have 
been  blind  ;  and,  if  in  nothing  else,  in  her  patronage 
of  Du  Prat  was  displayed  the  recklessness  with  w  hich 
she  could  make  use  of  the  vilest  instruments  in  the 
attainment  of  her  ends.^ 

Just  a  year  before,  Francis  had  made  a  real  step 
in  the  right  direction  by  beginning  a  sound  political 
combination  against  Charles  \\  He  had  several 
sympathies  with  the  English  King  Henry,  and  they 
could    agree    at    least    in    a    common    mistrust    and 

'  She  must  have  known   the   universal    detestation   in    which    her 
favourite  was  held.     In  the  streets  of  Lyons  people  sang — 

"  Ort  Chancellier,  Dicu  te  maudye, 
Desloyal  traitre  conseiller ; 
Par  toy  le  Roy  est  prisonnier 
Dont  tu  perdras  en  href  la  \'j'e, 
Ort  Chancellier. 


Tu  feiz  au  Roy  chasser  Bourbon 
rtuquel  le  conseil  estoit  bon  ; 
U  luiisoit  a  ta  mengen-e, 

Ort  Chancellier." 

He  had  done  so  much  evil  that  at  last  every  misfortune  was  ascriljed 
to  him  indiscriminately. 


REIGX  OF  FKAXCIS  I.  233 

dislike  of  the  craft}-  character  of  the  Emperor,  so 
different  from  their  own. 

The  mutual  promises  of  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of 
Gold  were  renewed  upon  a  firmer  basis,  in  an  inter- 
view near  the  same  place  twelve  )-ears  later,  and  the 
Protestant  princes  who  had  just  formed  the  League 
of  Smalkald  were  quite  prepared  to  join  the  two 
princes  against  Charles.  But  Francis,  blind  as  ever 
to  the  true  issues  of  a  consistent  polic}-,  and  always 
prone  to  let  his  passion  for  Ital\-  prove  a  besetting 
snare,  betrothed  his  second  son  to  Catherine,  the 
last  of  the  house  of  the  famous  Cosmo  de  Mcdicis. 
It  was  an  utterly  disproportionate  match,  that  ap- 
pealed to  the  pride  of  Clement  \'II.  without  in  the 
least  affecting  the  position  of  the  h^-ench  in  ItaK',  for 
the  Pope  died  in  the  next  year  ;  it  was  of  serious 
harm  to  the  Protestant  alliance,  and  even  caused  the 
grave  anno\-ance  of  the  English  King,  whose  part  in 
the  bargain  was  never  accomplished  to  his  mind  ;  its 
consequences  in  the  future  w^ere  still  more  fatal,  for 
it  introduced  into  the  heart  of  France  the  poisonous 
influence  of  a  woman  who  was  to  become  its  Queen 
and  to  continue  her  fatal  i)]ots  and  machinatiDUs 
until  the  end  of  the  century. 

Meanwhile  the  power  of  Charles  was  growing 
fast.  As  the  conqueror  of  P)arI>arossa  he  was  almost 
the  champion  of  Christendom,  while  he  could  jioint 
to  France  as  the  ally  of  Sfjliman  and  the  here- 
tics.     His  contempt  at   last  opcnl)'  bnjke  out  in  the 


234  OLD  TOURAINE 


extraordinary  speech,  which  Du  Bcllay  has  reported, 
before  the  IN^pc  in  the  Consistor\-.  His  attack  upon 
the  south  of  France  was  only  warded  off  hy  the 
brutal  methods  of  Montmorency,  who  laid  waste  the 
whole  of  Pro\-cncc  to  comi)cl  the  Imperialists  to 
retire  for  lack  of  food. 

The  Protestants  were  growing  desperate  of  help. 
Already  Geneva,  in  1536,  began  to  be  troubled  with 
insurrections,  and  the  Eidgenossen  of  the  Huguenots 
were  forming  with  the  watchwords  of  their  teacher 
Calvin.  The  King  himself  had  openly  given  up  all 
pretence  of  championing  their  cause,  and  joined  the 
Spanish  part}'  of  Montmorency  and  the  Dauphin.  A 
strange  result  of  this  changed  policy  was  the  visit  of 
the  Emperor  to  France — we  shall  hear  of  him  at 
Amboise  and  elsewhere — but  it  ended  in  nothing 
better  than  the  disgrace  of  the  Constable  when  the 
futility  of  all  attempts  at  reconciliation  became 
evident  after  Charles  had  returned. 

A  third  war  began,  in  which  the  only  profits  were 
won  by  the  Turks,  who  sailed  with  their  booty  to 
Constantinople.  Cerissoles  and  the  victories  of 
Montluc  were  barren  of  results  except  for  the  rise 
in  importance  of  the  Guises,  who  were  to  play  so 
large  a  part  in  the  next  half-centur)-.  The  reign 
of  h'rancis  was  drawing  to  its  close.  In  1545  died 
Luther,  and  in  1547  the  h'nglish  King,  in  whose 
death  Francis  saw  a  warning  of  his  own  ;  both  he 
and  the  Emperor  were  growing  old  before  their  time, 


I^EIGiV  OF  FKANCIS  I.  235 

but  the  French  King  was  to  go  before  his  rival  ;  and 
Francis  was  one  of  those  men  wlio  can  ill  afford  to 
grow  old.  The  gaiet\-  of  his  \-outhful  temperament 
was  turned  to  a  morose  irritabilit}-,  the  bloom  of  his 
first  beaut}-  was  changed  by  the  disfigurements  of 
disease.  Amid  the  quarrels  of  his  mistresses,  the 
disputes  of  his  old  friends,  with  all  his  grief  for 
the  death  of  his  eldest  son,  and  his  anno\-ance  at 
the  attitude  of  the  Dauphin,  who  between  his  Italian 
wife  and  the  cold  counsels  of  Diane  de  Poitiers 
seemed  completeh-  estranged  from  the  s\-mpath}-  of 
his  father,  Francis  feverishly  wore  out  the  last  da\-s 
of  his  existence :  some  solace,  some  consolation, 
indeed,  was  given  him  by  the  presence  of  his  sister 
Marguerite,  who  tries  tenderly  to  amuse  him  at 
Chambord  with  her  conversation,  to  write  him  stories 
in  her  Hcptaincro)i  ;  but  he  cannot  rest.  He  hurries 
through  Touraine  from  one  hunting-seat  to  another, 
striving  to  forget  his  pain  of  body  and  distress  of 
mind  in  violent  exercise,  but  must  needs  stop  at  last 
for  very  agony  at  Rambouillet,  and  there  die. 

In  spite  of  all  his  faults  and  failures  h^-ancis  has 
always  exercised  a  strange  fa.scination  over  his  country- 
men. "  If  he  was  not  a  great  King,"  writes  one,  "he 
was  at  any  rate  a  great  man."  "  Regulus,  it  is  true, 
was  more  \irtuous,"  saj's  another  ;  "  let  men  like 
Regulus  condemn  him."  Hrantomc  and  Du  Hclla)- 
arc  full  of  his  praises,  and  they  ha\e  been  echoed  b\' 
their  compatriots  ever  since.      And    perhajis   tiiis   is 


236  OLD   'J'OURAINE 


because  he  is  so  distinctively  a  tyjDC  of  one  side  of 
the  I'rcnch  cliaractcr.  "  h^-ancois,  ici  jJi'cscnt,  (lui  est 
tdut  r^-ancais,"  as  Thomas  l^irco  calls  liiiii  at  tlic 
Instates  of  Tours  wliich  confirmed  liis  marriai^c  with 
the  daui;htcr  of  Louis  XII.:  somcthintj^,  too,  of  the 
lustre  of  the  chani^cful  times  he  lived  in  has  fallen 
upon  him,  and  lent  to  the  Kini;  the  fame  of  a  Renais- 
sance that  came  but  from  the  progress  of  the  ai^es. 

In  the  reign  of  r'rancis  the  effect  of  many  great 
discoveries  first  began  to  be  felt.  The  disco\-cry  f)f 
.America  had  created  a  rex'olution  in  commerce,  had 
cheapened  the  precious  metals,  had  created  cajjitalists; 
the  route  round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  had  enlarged 
the  boundaries  of  trade  ;  the  wars  across  the  Alps 
had  led  men's  minds  to  Ital}^,  that  old  enchantress 
with  "the  fatal  gift  of  beauty"  even  in  the  years  of 
her  deca)',  and  with  an  added  interest  from  the 
stores  of  classical  research  just  0])ened  to  the 
world  of  scholarshi])  and  thought.  Ital\-  was  the 
soil  of  heroes,  where  the  chivalry  of  a  later  day 
was  to  try  its  maiden  steel  amid  the  new  and 
changing  scenes  of  Eurojjcan  j^olitics,  where  Ba\-ard 
met  in  fight  the  sons  of  Cortes  and  Pizarro,  who  had 
seen  the  fall  of  Mexico  and  Peru,  where  Michael 
Angelo  was  striving,  alone  and  unassisted,  to  show 
an  unheeding  generation  the  warnings  of  this  world 
and  the  next. 

Among  all  this  comes  the  great  change,  the  mighty 
movement  of  the  Reformation,  the  beginning  of  modern 


REIGX  OF  /-'A'AXC/S  I.  237 

times  ;  a  mo\emcnt  which  awakened  old  notions  of 
equality,  for  it  began  among  the  poor  and  ignorant, 
which  changed  a  militarx'  society  into  one  ci\il  and 
industrial,  which,  like  Socrates,  brought  ideas  into  the 
world  and  taught  the  liberty  of  philosophical  opinion 
in  the  face  of  an  irresistible  political  despotism. 

And  it  is  with  this  intellectual  part  of  the  move- 
ment of  reform  that  Marguerite  of  Na\arre  is  especially 
associated,  though  she  had  been  obliged  to  hide  her 
s)'mpathies  from  her  brother  ;  and  now  that  he  was 
dead  the  light  seemed  to  have  gone  out  of  her  life. 
Her  oldest  friends  had  left  her  or  were  dead,  and  in 
her  contemplative  seclusion  at  Nerac  she  quietl)-  and 
sadly  lived  her  last  years,  conversing  with  Montluc, 
Bishop  of  \'alence,  with  Lefcbvre  d'lCtable,  librarian 
of  l^lois,  writing  to  Amyot,  the  professor  of  the 
university  at  Bourges,  or  exchanging  graceful  fancies 
with  her  poet  Marot.  "  Hers  was  a  mind,"  says 
Michelet,  "delicate,  swift,  subtle,  which  fluttered  over 
c\erything,  lighted  on  everything,  and  scarcely  went 
beneath  the  surface."  And  Rabelais,  too,  with  a 
keen  appreciation  of  her  character,  writes  in  his 
dedication — 

"  Ksprit  abstrait  ravy  ct  ecstatic, 
Qui  frequciitait  Ics  cicu.x  son  originc." 

Anrj  her  lo\e  f(jr  I'"rancis  is  the  sun  she  follows, 
"  non  inferiora  .sccutus."  Tiiis  pale  princess  is  his 
good  genius  among  the  evil   innnciH  <s  of  a  Court  of 


238  OLD  TOURAIXE 


favourites  where  there  was  none  like  Agnes  Sorel  ; 
when  lie  deserted  her,  he  left  his  fcjrlune  with  her. 
"  Earth  had  conquered  heaven." 

The  quaint  stories  she  has  left  in  literature,  with 
the  delightful  interludes  of  conversation  that  are  their 
chief  charm,  have  all  the  indecency  but  little  of  the 
immorality  of  their  time.  To  full}'  grasp  what  that 
immorality  was  we  have  but  to  look  at  the  extra- 
ordinary Memoirs  of  Cellini,  the  type  of  the  strange 
age  in  which  he  li\"ed,  who  seems  to  haxe  lost  all 
discrimination  between  wrong  and  right,  to  be  de\oid 
of  any  moral  .sense,  wholly  given  up  to  the  physical 
pleasures  of  a  life  as  full  as  he  could  make  it,  or  to 
the  keen  passion  for  the  beautiful  in  art,  of  which  he 
was  so  great  a  master.  One  more  thing,  that  is  but 
another  reflection  of  the  temper  of  the  times,  is  very 
noticeable  in  this  autobiography  :  there  is  a  great 
contempt  for  human  life,  a  hideous  familiaritx'  with 
death  that  shows  itself  again  and  again  in  what  that 
century  has  left  for  us  to  see  and  pit\-.  The  wood- 
cuts of  Hans-Sebald  Beham  are  full  of  the  "  faucheurs 
de  la  mort,"  the  terrible  skeletons  in  tatters  that 
follow  hard  upon  the  plundering  lansquenets.  At 
Lyons  men  were  studying  Holbein's  "  simulachres 
de  la  mort,"  those  wild  imaginations  of  ever-pre.sent 
death,  where  the  grinning  skull  shows  close  behind 
the  Pope's  tiara,  where  a  skeleton  upon  the  battle- 
field smites  down  the  soldier  with  a  human  bone,  or 
in    the  doctor's    study   take   the   fees    from    his    last 


KEIGN  OF  FKAXCIS  I.  239 

patient,  or   with   the  ghastly   music  of  his   bagpipes 
lures  on  the  maniac  to  destruction. 

..."  Comme  siir  un  chap  noir, 
Sur  la  tristesse  immense  et  sombre 

Le  blanc  squelette  se  fait  voir  .   .   . 
.  .   .    Ues  cercueils  live  le  couvercle 

Avec  ses  bras  au.x  os  pointus, 
Dessine  ses  cotes  en  cercle 

Et  rit  dc  son  large  rictus." 

There  is  a  fragment  in  the  Museum  of  Xamur,  a 
mailed  knight  to  the  waist  without  a  head,  holding 
in  its  hands  a  skull  ;  beneath  is  the  inscription,  "  Une 
heure  viendra  quy  tout  paiera,"  and  the  letters  X  and 
P  joined  b\-  a  true  lovers'  knot.  It  is  a  fragment  that 
shows  pathetically  the  terror,  the  injustice,  the  wild 
dreams  of  vengeance  of  those  times,  when  no  man's 
life  or  woman's  virtue  was  safe,  \\hen  the  inevitable 
sadness  of  the  grave  was  redoubled  hy  strange  shapes 
of  death  personified  and  hideously  exultant. 

In  this  sombre  picture  the  form  of  Marguerite 
stands  apart,  a  light  that  was  soon  to  fade.  I  ler  death 
at  the  Castle  of  Odos  in  December  i  549  was  one 
more  triumph  for  the  party  that  had  always  been  in 
opposition  to  her  and  to  her  instincts.  The  sun  had 
set,  and  "the  pale  crescent  of  Diana"  began  its  slow 
and  sure  ascent,  chilh'ng  with  its  cold  beams  the 
reign  of  Ilcnry  II. 

Diane  dc  l*oiticrs,  Duchesse  de  X'alentinnis,  is 
enthroned  at  Chcnonceaux. 


ciiapt]-:r  XII 

(  IIF.NONCKAI'X 

"  Lors  se  bastissoyt  aux  soings  de  Messire  Doliicr.  general  des 
finances,  le  chasteau  de  Chenonceaulx,  lequel,  par  magnardise  et 
curiosite  boutoy t  son  bastiment  i  cheval  sur  la  riviere  du  Cher. " 

"There  is  a  sore  evil  which  I  have  seen  under  the  sun,  namely, 
riches  kept  for  the  owners  thereof  to  their  hurt.  But  those  riches 
perish  by  evil  travail  :  and  he  begetteth  a  son  and  there  is  nothing  in 
his  hand." 


AmoN(.    the   first  acts    of  the  new  King   after   the 

death  of  Francis  I.  was 
the  L^ift  of  the  ro)-al 
tlomain  of  Chenonceaux 
to  Diane  de  Poitiers, 
with  whose  name  the 
chateau  has  ever  since 
been  associated.  But, 
though  it  is  ill  the 
Italian  gardens  of  Diana 
that  the  stor)'  of  Chen- 
onceaux touches  its  highest  point  of  interest,  this, 
the  most  lovel)-  of  the  "  plus  excellents  bastiments 
de    France,"    has    seen   a    lonir    line    of   chatelaines. 


CHENOXCEA  UX  241 


Ladies  ruled  there  even  before  Diana,  and  the  last 
have  but  lately  left  this  home  among  the  naiads 
of  the  Cher,  which  seemed  especially  dedicated  to 
the  grace  and  luxury  of  women. 

Some  distance  eastward  of  the  bridge  of  Tours, 
between  the  rivers  of  the  Loire  and  Indre,  nestles 
the  little  village  of  Chenonccaux,  in  the  shade  of 
the  great  forest  of  Amboise.  The  railway,  which 
soon  leaves  the  valley  of  the  Loire,  had  entered  the 
vale  of  the  Cher,  and  passed  the  main  drive  of  the 
chateau  before  we  had  realised  the  situation  ;  and 
in  a  few  moments  an  omnibus,  drawn  at  an  aston- 
ishing pace  by  one  of  those  French  horses  of  the 
Percheron  breed  which  never  seem  to  tire  and  are 
rarely  out  of  condition,  brought  us  to  the  inn  of  the 
Bon  Laboureur  in  the  \illage,  where  a  primitive  but 
extremely  well-cooked  dejeuner  awaited  us. 

We  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  roof  of  the 
chateau,  broken  by  its  countless  points  and  gables, 
as  we  drove  up,  and  as  soon  as  the  bottle  of 
Vin  ]\Iousseux  was  finished  and  appreciated  we 
were  fairly  on  our  way  to  explore  more  closel)' 
the  home  of  so  many  beauties  famous  in  I'^ench 
history. 

The  fine  drive  to  the  doors  is  guarded  by  two 
stone  sphinxes,  and,  though  the  railway  crosses  it, 
it  is  at  a  distance  which  obviates  aii\' anno)-ance  from 
the  sleepy  and  infrefjucnt  trains. 

The  first  view  of  ChcnfjiiCL-aux  is  a  magnificent 
VOL.  I  K 


242  OLD   'J'OURAINE 


one.  On  the  immediate  right  is  the  long  range  of 
splendid  stables — a  modern  buiUling,  but  of  good 
taste  ;  and  to  the  left  spreads  tlic  wide  terraced 
garden  built  b\'  Diane  de  Poitiers,  surrounded  b\'  its 
high  walk  which  leads  to  the  raised  courtyard  im- 
mediately in  front  of  the  main  building,  a  large  and 
ver}-  handsome  open  space  rising  upon  high  walls 
from  the  lower  level,  with  a  fine  detached  tower  at 
the  right  corner,  the  oldest  part  of  the  chateau,  the 
last  relic  of  its  earliest  owners.  It  bears  the  initials 
of  Thomas  Bonier  and  Catherine  Briconnet  his  wife, 
upon  the  beautifully  carved  doorway  at  its  base,  and 
is  crowned  by  a  huge  extinguisher  of  slate,  while  the 
lines  of  its  sides  are  gracefull)'  relieved  by  a  smaller 
turret  clinging  to  its  walls,  whose  pointed  top  breaks 
the  outline  of  the  larger  roof.  Immediately  to  the 
left  of  this  is  the  great  drawbridge  leading  to  a 
strong  circular  stone  i)iL-r  rising  out  of  the  waters 
of  the  Cher  ;  then  begins  the  main  building  of  the 
chateau,  that  fair)'-like  construction  which  owed  its 
birth  to  Catherine  Briconnet. 

In  early  times  a  Roman  \-illa  seems  to  ha\-e 
stood  upon  this  site,  too  lovel\-  to  be  left  long 
without  an  occupant.  The  vine-lands  slope  down 
softl\"  to  the  river's  edge,  and  the  trees  and  foliage 
round  the  water  help  to  make  an  exquisite  natural 
setting  for  one  of  the  most  beautiful  dwellings  e\"cr 
fashioned  by  the  art  of  man.  Later  on  the  site  was 
filled  by  a  rough   kind   of  feudal  castle,  to  which,  in 


CHENONCEA  UX  245 


the  time  of  the  Marques  (between  1250  and  1500), 
a  watermill  had  been  added. 

Jean  Marques  had  sided  with  the  luigHsh  against 
the  son  of  Charles  W.,  and  by  his  traitorous  adher- 
ence to  the  invaders  caused  so  much  anno\-ance 
that  the  town  of  Tours  summoned  Du  GucscHn  to 
come  to  the  assistance  of  the  province.  Close  by  the 
castle  he  defeated  the  English,  razed  the  fortifications 
of  the  place,  and  cut  down  its  woods  "  a  I'hauteur 
de  I'infamie,"  as  a  punishment  for  the  unpatriotic 
behaviour  of  their  owner.  In  1432  a  second  Jean 
got  letters-patent  from  Charles  VII.  for  raising  the 
outworks  again,  and  rebuilding  the  donjon,  and  in 
the  ne.xt  year  the  moats  were  dug  and  the  corner 
tower  built.  Jean  died  in  1460,  hca\il\-  in  tlcbt,  and 
Pierre,  with  an  equal  disregard  of  the  first  principles 
of  finance,  bought  land  and  built  on  it  until  the 
family  was  ruined  and  the  estate  heavily  mortgaged. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Chenonceaux  when  Catherine 
Bri^onnet  came  to  transform  it.  Tiie  feudal  castles 
were  gradually  deca)-ing,  and  the  puw  cr  of  the  Bour- 
geois that  rose  with  the  rising  of  the  Renaissance 
was  represented  by  her  husband,  Thomas  l^ohicr. 
The  main  buildings  of  the  older  pile  she  entirely 
demolished,  except  the  one  tower  which  still  stands 
in  the  corner  of  the  raised  courtyard  belVnc  ihc  main 
door  of  the  chateau.  The  building — call  it  \il!a, 
castle,  chateau,  what  )ou  will — ^was  at  any  rate  no 
longer    to    be     a     fortress,    and    indeed    there    had 


246  OLD  TOUR  A I NE 


never  been  much  serious  fighting  (if  we  except  the 
operations  under  Bertrand  thi  Gucsch'n  long  before) 
round  a  home  which  was  destined  for  all  its  future 
to  be  almost  the  only  great  chateau  in  I^'rance  with- 
out the  stain  of  murder  on  its  walls. 

In  the  improvements  which  this  first  Catherine 
initiated,  the  old  piles  and  massive  masonry  of  the 
mill  were  cleverly  made  use  of,  and  upon  this  solid 
base,  made  somewhat  larger,  the  main  body  of 
Chenonceaux  was  built  with  a  taste  so  exquisite  and 
so  original  that  the  uncertainty  which  hides  the 
name  of  the  architect  is  doubh'  to  be  deplored. 
Mrs.  Mark  Pattison,  whose  notes  on  the  architecture 
of  Touraine  gracefully  supply  so  much  that  is  want- 
ing in  the  more  serious  treatises  of  Viollct  le  Due 
or  Petit,  considers  that  the  plans  of  Chenonceaux 
may  be  ascribed  to  the  same  Pierre  le  Nepveu 
dit  Trinqueau  who  is  responsible  later  on  for  the 
gigantic  courts  of  Chainbord  :  if  so,  the  earlier 
building  gains  immenseh'  from  the  greater  restraint 
and  refinement  of  the  artist's  handling,  while  it  loses 
nothing  of  that  wild  spirit  of  invention  which  is  the 
characteristic  of  a  transitional  period  in  which  men 
feel  their  way  towards  constructive  change,  "  not 
daring  to  touch  essential  features,  but  tentativeh' 
busy  on  the  transformations  and  adaptations  of 
minor  details." 

The  Renaissance  had  a  far  earlier  origin  in 
France    than    is    usually    given    to    it  ;    the    definite 


CHENONCEA  UX  247 


fixing  of  any  limits  to  a  period  of  change  is  always 
dangerous,  often  impossible.  By  tlic  time  the 
EngUsh  had  been  expelled  the  old  defensive  archi- 
tecture was  known  to  be  practically  useless,  and  the 
transition,  which  is  especially  noticeable  at  Loches, 
had  already  begun.  In  the  same  line  of  building 
the  narrow  openings  for  arrow -shots  and  the  un- 
broken line  of  thick  protecting  wall  had  given  place 
to  rooms  that  opened  to  the  light,  with  windows 
carved  and  arabesqued.  What  was  needed  was  not 
the  foreign  arts  of  Primaticcio,^  but  a  firm  national 
government  at  home,  which  was  ensured  by  peace 
and  signalised  by  the  rise  of  the  master  masons  and 
the  builders  of  the  great  cathedrals. 

There  were  many  pilgrimages  to  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  before  the  first  Crusade,  and  so  it  was 
because  the  fifteenth  century  dreamed  of  Italy  that 
the  sixteenth  went  there,  and  found  instead  of  free 
development  the  bondage  that  ensued  from  fuller 
knowledge.  But  of  this  first  pure  dream,  this 
earlier  time  of  reawakening  and  national  strength  " 
unfettered  by  Italian  schools,  Azay-le-Ridcau  and 
Chenonceaux  remain  among  the  most  perfect 
examples. 

"  Tourelles  break  out  from  the  massive  walls 
at   points  where  they  cease  to   suggest   the   flanking 

'  .Sec  the  article  on  Chenoncciux,  hy  M.  J.nnit's  D.irmesictcr,  Kci'ue 
Blette. 

•  See  Chap.  \'I.  <m  llic  House  of  Orleans,  the  earlier  pages  on  the 
art  of  Tourainc. 


248  ('/./)   TOURAINE 


towers  which  they  originally  replaced.  Every  turret, 
ever)'  pinnacle,  is  crowned  with  some  fantastic  orna- 
ment, and  the  angles  at  wliich  gables  jut  forth  here 
and  there  from  the  pierced  and  carved  work  which 
surrounds  them,  are  selected  with  the  express  inten- 
tion of  misleading  the  c\-e  ;  lout  the  heavy  cones 
which  surmount  the  larger  towers  thrust  through  the 
ornaments  which  flame  about  them,  and  bring  a 
sense  of  order  into  troubled  places,  even  where  every 
element  of  design  seems  absent."  ^ 

Nor  is  the  interior  less  remarkable  with  halls  and 
corridors  and  antechambers  multiplying  mysteriously. 
The  contrast  between  the  rooms  of  Langeais  and  of 
Chaumont  becomes  a  still  greater  one  here  ;  the 
few  high  halls  that  sufficed  for  Jean  Bourre  at 
Langeais  would  never  have  satisfied  the  enlarged 
ideas  of  a  life  apart  as  well  as  a  life  in  common,  for 
A\hich  the  architect  of  Chenonceaux  was  bidden  to 
provide. 

With  many  of  Thomas  Bohier's  relations  we  have 
already  become  acquainted.  He  was,  for  instance,  a 
connection  of  the  Chancellor  Du  Prat,  a  son-in-law  of 
Cardinal  Briconnet,  a  nephew  of  Jacques  de  Beaune 
Semblancay,  and  he  held  the  post  of  General  of 
the  Finances  in  Normandy  ;  he  was  one  of  the  great 
financiers  who  were  in  man\-  wa}-s  the  precursors   of 

^  Mrs.  Mark  Pattison,  Kenaissaiice  of  Art  in  France,  cap.  ii. 
Clienonceaux  was  complete  (all  save  the  bridge  across  the  Cher)  by 
1517.  The  wing  of  Francis  I.  at  Blois  was  being  built  in  1515,  Chani- 
bord  and  Azay  about  1526,  P'ontainebleau  in  the  ne.\t  year. 


CHENONCEAUX  249 


the  famous  and  unhappy  Fouquet,  but  as  our  sym- 
pathies are  often  more  in  favour  of  the  magnificent 
good  taste  of  the  minister  of  Louis  XIV.  than 
against  the  recklessness  of  his  expenditure,  so  if 
these  earlier  "  surintendants  "  greatly  sinned  they  left 
the  beauty  of  their  chateaux  as  an  enduring  excuse 
for  their  shortcomings. 

For  some  time  Semblancay  had  been  buying 
lands  for  Bohier  all  round  the  embarrassed  estates  of 
the  Marques  family,  who,  after  much  struggling  to 
keep  their  old  home,  were  finally  bought  out  in 
1499  with  certain  legal  restrictions  and  feudal  com- 
plications still  unsettled.  For  seven  }-ears  more 
Bohier  continued  to  buy  up  land  in  all  directions, 
until  at  last  he  was  able  to  become  the  sole  pos- 
sessor of  Chenonceaux,  bidding  against  the  "  grand 
maitre  des  arbalctricrs  de  France."  But  the  Crown 
had  something  to  sa)-  in  the  acquisition  of  this 
coveted  estate,  and  Bohier,  after  spending  26,812 
livres  on  the  place,  was  made  to  pay  further  sums  as 
compensation  for  taking  up  certain  royal  privileges  ; 
but  more  and  more  land  on  all  sides  was  bought  up, 
and  the  reconstruction  of  the  chateau  was  begun,  oi 
which  I^ohier  himself  was  never  to  see  the  comple- 
tion. His  position  at  this  time  gave  him  immense 
power  and  control  over  the  revenues  of  the  kingdom, 
and  his  proutl  mr^tto,  "  S'il  vicnt  a  point  me  s(ju- 
viendra,"  seemed  almost  justified,  when  in  1521  he 
went    with     Lautrcc    a^    Treasurcr-CiciK  ral    (MI    th<- 


250  OLD  TOURAINE 


Italian  expedition.  In  the  affair  of  the  loss  of  the 
King's  money  already  explained,  Bohicr  paid  the 
soldiers  out  of  his  own  pocket,  and  was  made  Licu- 
tenant-General.  lie  died  in  1524,  at  Vigelli,  in  the 
same  retreat  in  which  T^ayard  perished,  and  his 
uncle  Semblancay,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two,  was 
hanged  at  ^lontfaucon  to  save  the  tarnished  honour 
of  Louise  de  Savoie. 

The  magnificent  preparations  of  Chenonceaux 
had  a  sad  ending  enough.  Perhaps  it  would  have 
been  possible  for  a  scion  of  a  ro)-al  house  only,  or  an 
official  in  such  high  position  as  that  of  Thomas 
Bohier,  to  have  done  what  he  did  for  his  chateau  ; 
but  whether  his  immense  wealth  was  all  got  honestly 
or  not,  he  seems  to  have  left  but  little  comfort 
behind  him,  for  Catherine  Briconnet  died  but  two 
years  afterwards,  and  his  son's  days  w^ere  early 
embittered  by  the  harassing  task  of  trying  to  square 
the  confused  accounts  of  his  father.  The  rest  of 
Antoine's  life  was  made  up  of  financial  quibbles  and 
questionable  arrangements,  w^hich  throw  a  strange 
light  on  the  business  honesty  of  the  times,  and 
explain  much  of  the  after  history  of  Chenonceaux.^ 

'  De  Tocqueville  explains  very  forcibly  the  distressing  position  of 
these  "  Surintendants  de  Finance,"  who  from  Marigny  to  Necker  were 
between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea.  "La  produit  des  taxes  si  mal 
reparties  avait  des  limites,  et  les  besoins  des  princes  n'en  avaient  plus. 
Cependant  ils  ne  voulaient  ni  convoquer  les  etats  pour  en  obtenir  les 
subsides,  ni  provoquer  la  noblesse  en  rimposant  a  reclamer  la  convoca- 
tion de  ces  assemblees.  De  la  vient  cette  prodigieuse  et  malfaisante 
(econditc  de  I'esprit   financier  durant  les  trois  derniers  sieclcs  de  la 


CHENOXCEA  UX  25 1 


The  heir  of  Thomas  Bohier's  complicated  balance- 
sheets  was  given  all  his  father's  offices  as  well, 
with  the  unpleasant  result  that  in  1 5  3 1  he  was 
declared  a  debtor  for  an  enormous  sum  to  the 
Treasury.  Antoine  at  once  made  arrangements 
with  his  brothers  to  amalgamate  their  common  pro- 
perty, and,  by  adding  Chenonccaux  itself  to  the 
money  he  was  thus  enabled  to  raise,  he  found  it 
possible  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  Anne  de  Mont- 
morency, the  creditor  for  the  Crown.  He  was  for- 
given the  rest  by  Francis  I.,  "  en  bonne  foi  et 
parole  de  roi,"  and  for  the  present  seemed  quit  of 
the  whole  unpleasant  business.  Chenonceaux  had 
become  a  Crown  domain,  and  a  series  of  royal  visits 
soon  began. 

Now  Francis  often  came  over  from  his  Court  at 
Plessis-lez- Tours,  with  Eleanor  of  Austria  or  the 
Duchesse  d'Etampes,  and  loitering  behind  the 
hunting  party  rode  the  young  Dauphin  talking  to 
the  ever -juvenile  Diana.  The  glimpses  of  gaiety 
which  came  ever  and  again  to  Chenonceaux  during 
this  reign,  after  the  death  of  Francis  grew  in  good 
earnest  into  that  splendour  and  magnificence  of 
which  they  were  but  the  promise,  and  which  never 
left  it  till  the  death  of  Catherine  de  Medicis.  As 
the  favourite  of  the  King,  the  triumphant  Diane  de 
Poitiers  was  given  outright  that  estate  which  slu-  hail 

monarchic."      The    "two   daughters  of   the    horsclcach "   left   tlicsc 
unlucky  officials  little  rest. 


252  OLD  rOUKAINE 


no  doubt  coveted  long  before  on  the  hunting  excur- 
sions from  Plessis-lez-Tours.  The  pretext  of  the  gift 
consisted  in  the  \ahiahlc  scr\-iccs  rendered  to  the 
State  b\'  her  husband  Louis  do  Brczc,  Grand 
Seneschal  of  Normand}',  services  which  it  had 
remained  for  Henry  II.  to  discover  and  reward. 
She  was  given  all  rights  implied  in  the  domain,  and 
at  Paris,  at  Tours,  and  at  Amboise  the  deeds  of 
gift  were  signed  and  countersigned. 

But  Diana  did  not  yet  feel  safe.  At  the  very 
outset  of  our  acquaintance  with  her  we  shall  fmd  her 
fair  fame  tarnished  with  the  intrigues  and  chicanery 
of  a  lawsuit,  which  had  for  its  sole  object  the 
possession  of  a  firm  and  inalienable  right  to  the  lands 
of  Chcnonceaux,  to  oppose  to  the  inevitable  objec- 
tions of  the  envious  Queen.  Nor  does  this  trait  in 
her  character  appear  fortuitously  ;  to  the  very  end 
Diana  appears  cold  and  hard.  In  the  great  famine 
of  1557  she  gave  no  alms  away  to  her  starving 
tenants.  Throughout  her  life  she  grasped  at  every 
chance  of  riches  and  preferment,  and  let  very  little 
slip. 

This  strange  process  now  began.  The  inalien- 
ability of  Crown  property  being  still  a  question  of 
some  uncertainty,  Diana  determined  to  go  back  to  the 
crisis  of  the  imhappy  Antoine  Bohier's  fate,  the  28th 
of  May  1535,  to  sa\'  lliat  his  calculations  had  been 
grossly  exaggerated,  and  to  completely  annul  the 
contract  which  had  received  the  formal  assent  of  the 


CHENONCEAUX  253 


last  King.  But  this  was  not  all  :  the  ill-used  Bohier 
was  then  to  be  reinstated  in  a  sarcastic  mocker)'  of 
ownership,  and  the  balance  of  his  old  debt  rigorously 
demanded  ;  he  would  then  inevitably  be  declared 
bankrupt,  his  lands  put  up  for  auction,  all  other 
bidders,  even  the  Seigneur  de  Rochecorbon,  con- 
quered b\-  the  in\incible  favourite,  and  Diana  should 
at  last  become  the  legal  owner  with  incontestable 
rights.  All  this  was  done  :  the  wretched  General  of 
Finances  was  crushed  in  every  court  of  law,  and 
though  a  Gentleman  of  the  Ro\-al  Chamber,  a  Privy 
Councillor,  and  Lieutenant-General  of  Touraine,  he 
was  obliged  to  fly  to  Venice  ;  the  curse  of  his  high 
office  was  upon  him.  Of  the  twelve  men  who  had 
held  this  post  since  Marigny  in  i  3  i  5,  eight  had  died 
violent  deaths,  three  had  been  ruined,  Florimond 
Robertet  alone  under  Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII. 
had  been  unmolested  and  died  quietly.  Nor  did  the 
history  of  Bohier's  own  family  contain  much  that 
was  encouraging:  Semblancay  had  been  sacrificed,  his 
wife's  uncle,  Jean  Poucher,  had  been  unjustl)'  hanged 
his  cousin,  Gilles  Ik-rthelot,  had  been  exiled,  and  :\/.i\\- 
Ic-Rideau  suffered  the  same  fate  as  Chenonccaux.' 

^  Tlie  covetous  and  grasjiing  Louise  de  Savoie  was  pi.'culiarly  huslile 
to  the  financiers.  In  the  first  years  of  her  son's  reign  slie  writes : 
"  Sans  y  pouvoir  donner  provision,  mon  Ills  et  nioi  fcusnies  continuelle- 
ment  desroljcs  par  Ics  gens  de  finances;"  and  again,  in  151S,  "en 
Xovembrc  Ic  moine  rouge,  Anlhoine  Hoys  (Cardinal  Holiier),  parent  de 
iioslrc  rcveren(Ussimc  chancelier  et  dcs  inextricahles  sacrificateurs  de 
finances,  alia  de  repos  en  travail  hers  de  cc  nionde  ;  et  lors  ful  faict  une 
frir :iss<'-<'  'rabbayes,  selon  la  foUe  ambition  de  plusieurs  pa|)es." 


254  OLD  TOURAINE 


So  Antoinc  Bohier  fled,  seeing  no  other  alter- 
native, but  the  parody  of  justice  went  (ju,  adhering 
with  a  rigorous  irony  to  all  its  forms.  He  let  all 
its  judgments  go  against  him  by  default,  until  Diana 
had  fuially  secured  her  Naboth's  vineyard  at  (it  is 
pleasing  to  notice)  a  considerably  heightened  price, 
until  his  famous  balance  had  been  for  the  second 
time  forgiven,  and  he  could  return  bearing  with  him 
the  mockery  of  a  forced  approval  and  a  heavy  heart 
to  begin  life  afresh. 

While  the  new  proprietress  is  arranging  with 
De  rOrme  ^  the  plans  of  her  new  bridge  across 
the  Cher,  is  building  her  Italian  gardens  (to  which 
every  famous  gardener  in  Touraine  contributes),  and 
planting  her  lab)'rinth  within  her  park,  we  must 
take  our  stand,  too,  among  the  crowds  of  busy  work- 
men by  the  river,  and  watch  more  closely  the  face 
that  had  so  great  an  influence  over  Henry  H.  and 
the  destinies  of  France. 

It  is  a  pale,  untroubled  face,  with  waving  bands 
of  raven  hair  above  a  brow  of  brilliant  white,  a  face 
that  will  not  easily  grow  old,  for  it  has  never  suffered 
from  emoticjn,  that  has  outshone  the  painted  counte- 
nances of  all  other  beauties  at  the  Court  by  the  use 
of  no  other  drugs  than  indifference  and  cold  water." 

1  It  is  certain  that  De  TOrnie  was  at  Chcnonceaux  in  1556  at  any 
rate.  He  was  disgraced  three  years  afterwards,  and  in  1565  appeared 
his  Livre  d^Arckitcitnre,  some  time  before  Du  Cerceau's  more  famous 
account  of  the  Plus  Excellents  Eastivicnts  de  France. 

-  .See  Brantome  (ii.  395),  who  saw  her  in  her  old  age,  "aussy  belle 
de  face,  aussy  fraische,  aussy  aymalile  commc  a  I'aagc  de  trente  ans. " 


CHE.VONCEAiX  255 


Diana,  born  in  1499,  was  the  daughter  of  Saint 
Vallier,  whose  plots  with  the  Constable  had  been 
punished  b}-  imprisonment  at  Loches.  At  fifteen  she 
married  Louis  de  'Qxizc,  Seneschal  of  Normand}-, 
the  grandson  of  a  traitor,  and  the  son  of  a  descend- 
ant of  Agnes  Sorel  who  murdered  his  adulterous 
wife. 

For  fifteen  years  the  heat  of  the  Rhone  blood 
within  her  veins  was  tempered  by  her  life  in  Normandy 
among  the  lawsuits  and  processes  of  her  husband  ; 
her  only  appearance  in  the  larger  world  was  in  con- 
nection with  Saint  Vallier's  release,  for  the  story 
of  her  amours  with  Francis  I.  was  the  invention  of  a 
scandalous  Court  and  nothing  more/  She  remained 
unheard  of  till  her  husband's  death,  and  then  came 
quietl}-  to  Court  with  her  two  girls  to  marr)',  and  the 
reputation  of  an  impregnable  widow.  She  con- 
sequently secured  the  highest  prize  of  all  ;  for 
Francis,  half  ashamed  of  the  dull  nature  of  his  son, 
whose  youthful  spirits  had  been  somewhat  crushed 
and  clouded  in  Spanish  prisons,  had  laughingly 
recommended    this    sombre    Dauphin    to    the    good 

'  The  details  of  her  father's  trial  show  this.     See  also  Coiynel,  I'n 
Cetitilhomme  des  7'enips  Passt's,  cap.  v.,  and  Clement  Marot's  verses— 

"  Que  voulcz  vous,  l)i.mc  bonne, 
Que  vous  donnc  ? 
Vous  n'custcs,  conimc  j'cnlemls, 
Jam:iis  t.int  tl'hcur  en  printcmps 
Qu'cn  autoinnc." 

Whether  she  knowingly  aimed  at  the  rising  and  left  tJic  setting  stm  is 
uncertain— she  was  c|uitc  clever  enough  to  do  so. 


256  OLD   TOURAINE 


graces  of  the  handsome  Seneschale,  who  was  to 
teach  him  courtly  manners  and  a  becoming  affection 
for  the  Italian  wife  whom  he  had  for  so  lonsf 
neglected.  And  Madame  Diane  was  keen  enough 
to  see  the  way  to  stir  the  sluggish  spirit  and  un- 
developed passions  of  the  prince,  who  amid  the 
gallantries  of  his  father's  idle  Court  had  grown  up 
uncarcd  for  and  neglected. 

"  Though  somewhat  of  a  melancholic  temper," 
says  the  ambassador  Marino  dei  Cavalli,  "  he  is  yet 
very  skilful  in  all  arms  and  exercises  ;  though  slow  of 
speech  his  thoughts  arc  clear  and  his  opinions  sound  ; 
his  mind  has  ripened  slowly  like  the  fruits  of 
autumn."  Thus  it  was  that  the  Italian  airs  and 
graces  of  his  young  foreign  wife  had  not  appealed 
to  him,  but  his  slow  heart  opened  out  and  gave  itself 
irrevocably  to  the  maturer  charms  of  Diana  in  the 
pure  black  and  white  of  modest  widowhood. 

Her  strength,  her  magnificent  health,  the  cold 
resolve  and  energy  of  her  character,  appealed  to  him 
as  much  as  the  firm  line  of  her  features,  the  proud 
curve  of  her  lip,  the  narrow  forehead  which  marked 
the  decision  of  her  nature  rather  than  the  loftiness  of 
her  ideas. ^      There  was  no   sensualit)',  no   tenderness 

^  See  the  portrait  in  the  library  at  Aix,  with  the  lines  in  Francis' 
handwriting,  "  Bele  a  la  vcoir,  Oneste  a  la  anter."  There  is  another 
drawing  in  crayon  in  the  Niel  collection,  a  medal  (in  the  Bibl.  Nat. ) 
with  the  legend,  "  Omnium  victorem  vici,"  and  the  statue  at  Versailles. 
These  are  without  doubt  authentic,  and,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  contem- 
porary.    Many  others  of  uncertain  origin  are  at  Rouen,  at  Chcnonceaux, 


CHENONCEA  L  'X  257 


in  this  face,  nothing  but  the  visible  expression  of 
strength  of  will  and  action,  the  serenity  half  divine 
that  Goujon  was  to  express  in  the  exquisite  lines 
of  his  "  Diane  Chasseressc  "  at  Anet. 

So  calm  and  so  impassive  a  divinity  would  already 
leave  something  to  be  desired  by  most  men,  but  for 
a  later  age,  that  judges  of  her  actions  after  the  con- 
fusing magic  of  her  countenance  has  passed  away, 
there  is  a  more  serious  defect.  This  woman  who, 
b}'  the  very  repression  of  her  soul,  kept  firmer  hold 
upon  the  stern  regime  that  gave  imperishable  health 
and  beauty  to  her  bod\-,  was  disfigured  b}'  a  vcr\- 
demon  of  avarice  and  intrigue  insatiable.^  She  took 
Anet,  she  took  Chenonceaux,  she  took  the  Duchy  of 
\'alentinois,  she  laid  hands  on  the  ver)-  trcasur\-  of 
the  new  reign  and  kept  the  key.  She  had,  it  is  true, 
inspired  the  delicate  and  artificial  masterpieces  of 
her  time,'  but  her  stately  infiucnce  had  chilled  the 
impetuous  spirit  of  the  Rcnai-ssance  ;  her  nature  is 
more  reflected  in  the  squares  and  spaces  of  the 
Italian    garden    than    in    the    wild    flourishes   of   the 

at  Chaumonl,  at  Azay-k-Ridcau,  at  Ilamiilun  Cijurt.  .*^oc  M.  Cuityrcy, 
I.dtres  incdites  de  D.  de  J'. 

'  "Grande  vcritablement,"  says  Michclct,  "  cnornicment  capacc, 
miraculeusement  al»sorbante.  La  baleine,  le  leviathan  sont  tic  faiblcs 
images. " 

■-'  .See  the  picture,  belonging  to  the  school  of  Clouct,  from  which  in 
1879  six  copies  were  taken — of  which  there  is  one  in  Hibl.  Nat.  (iai.  dcs 
Hstampes.  It  is  ap])arently  of  Uiana  in  old  age,  still  with  the  same  tif,'fif, 
pale  features.  It  adds  a  sinister  association  to  the  title  of  Valentinois, 
that  the  most  famous  holder  of  it  in  recent  times  had  Iwen  the  hand- 
some and  unscrupulous  lialiai),  ("xsar  Horgia. 

VOL.  I  S 


2S8  OLD  TOUKAINR 


turreted  roof  of  Chenonccaux.  Similarly,  there  is  a 
cool  calculation  about  her  first  entry  into  Court  ;  the 
waves  of  scandal,  e\-cn  the  outbursts  of  the  astonished 
Kini^,  break  unheeded  ac^ainst  the  stony  rock  of  her 
indifference.  She  quietly  and  surely  makes  her  way 
into  the  very  depths  of  the  Dauphin's  affections, 
marries  her  daui^hters  into  the  powerful  fann'lics  of 
Lamarck  and  Guise,  and  with  yet  more  astounding 
subtlety  of  penetration  wards  off  the  possible  opjjosi- 
tion  of  Catherine  de  Medicis,  by  actually  reconcilini^ 
her  disdainful  husband  to  her  presence,  cncourau;in;^ 
the  backward  Henry  in  his  duties,  and  even  watch- 
ing over  the  sickbed  of  the  mother  and  the  cradles 
of  her  children.  Her  liaison  with  llcmy'  was  ncjt 
to  be  reproached  with  jealousy  at  any  rate,  for  she 
had  recognised  onl)-  too  keenly  the  necessities  of 
her  own  position,  and  of  the  politics  of  the  time  : 
the  only  two  friendships  which  the  Dau])hin  had 
permitted  himself  before  Diana  had  appeared 
were  with  Montmorenc}'  and  with  his  brilliant  pla\-- 
fellow,  Saint  Andre  :  both  were  \-ery  shortly  firm 
friends   of   Diana."       In    the    last    }-ears   of   Francis, 

'  To  the  very  end  she  persisted  in  representing  it  as  nothing  more 
than  a  Platonic  friendship. 

-  In  the  Bibl.  Nat.  Man.  fr.  3021,  fo.  94,  and  3139,  fo.  63,  are  two 
letters  from  Diana  to  the  Constable — in  the  first  of  which  occurs  the 
regular  treaty  of  alliance  between  them.  "  Assurez  vous  Monsyeur," 
she  writes,  "que  sy  vous  voulez  ainsy  user  en  men  endroit,  comma  me 
niandez,  je  vous  seray  sure  et  obeyssante  conime  personne  au  monde. " 

It  is  interesting  to  note  how  two  such  different  characters  were  united 
by  their  common  interests  ;  yet  the  sombre  faith  of  the  Constable,  with 


CHEXONCEAUX  259 


distracted  as  \vc  have  seen  by  the  strife  of  parties 
and  intrigues,  the  party  of  Diana  was  the  strongest, 
the  part)'  that  was  coming  to  the  throne,  and  her  in- 
fluence over  the  new  King  became  the  more  invincible 
that  from  her  skill  and  tact  it  was  almost  unfelt.^ 

The  reign  of  Hcnr)-  II.  began,  as  it  ended,  with 
a  tournament.  The  transition  between  the  times  of 
Francis  to  the  new  society  of  the  last  Valois  was 
signalised  by  a  reversion  to  the  older  world  which 
settled  its  differences  in  the  trial   by  combat.      This 

his  terrible  "  paternosters  "  interspersed  with  sudden  orders  for  a  hang- 
ing or  a  quartering  forthwith,  was  not  so  very  diflerent  in  its  results 
from  the  mocking  cynicism  with  which  Diana  suppressed  her  own  reli- 
gious convictions,  and  refused  to  listen  to  her  conscience.  Dumas  is 
probably  right  in  hinting  that  there  was  an  even  closer  tie  between  the 
pair  than  mere  political  alliance ;  yet  it  is  hardly  intelligible  that  the 
King  could  have  had  a  serious  rival  in  this  brutal  soldier  who  had  xs 
little  good  fortune  when  a  general  as  he  had  good  manners  when  a 
courtier. 

'  Unfortunately  we  have  none  of  Diana's  letters  to  the  King,  to  ex- 
plain in  part  the  magic  of  her  influence  over  him — several  of  his  still 
exist.  Bibl.  Nat.  Man.  fr.  3143,  fos.  2,  3,  4,  5.  "Madame  mamye, 
je  vous  remercye  tres  humblement  de  la  peyne  que  vous  avez  prise  de 
me  mander  de  vos  nouvelles,  quy  est  la  chose  du  monde  que  je  tiens 
la  plus  agreable,  et  vous  supplye  de  me  tenir  jiromcsse,  car  je  ne  puis 
vivre  sans  vous,  et  sy  vous  saviez  le  peu  de  passetams  que  j'ay  vous 
auricz  pitye  de  moy.  Je  ne  fere  plus  longue  lectrc,  sinon  pi)ur  vous 
asseurer  que  ne  s(,auriez  sitost  venir  (|ue  le  souhaite  celuy  (|ui  demcure 
a  jamcs  vostre  trcs  humble  scrvileur. " 

The  letter  is  signed  with  the  EO  whicli  so  often  recurs  in  tiie  decnr- 
ations  of  Chenonccaux  ;  the  cipher  did  as  well  for  II  and  D  as  for  the 
initials  of  Henry  and  his  (Jueen  Catherine.  Hy  the  kindness  of  the 
Credit  Koncier,  and  of  M.  Ic  Hreton  at  Tours,  I  have  been  able  to 
reprfxluce  in  this  volume  one  of  the  rare  examples  of  Diana's  hand- 
writing which  exist,  from  one  of  the  .M.S.S.  in  the  .Archives  of  (.  Iienon- 
ceaux  ;  as  was  probable,  it  is  a  receipt. 


26o  OLD   TOURAIXE 


Strange  scene  of  the  duel  between  Jarnac  and 
Ch&taigneraic,  sanctioned  by  the  Kini;  himself,  and 
watched  by  a  midtitude  besides,  has  been  often  de- 
scribed ;  for  the  details,  which  arc  interesting  enough, 
we  must  refer  the  curious  reader  to  the  "proccs  verbal" 
of  the  duel.'  The  gist  of  the  whole  sad  matter  is  put 
shorth'  in  the  pages  of  Vieilleville,  and  we  have  but 
time  in  this  place  to  look  quickly  at  the  crowded 
lists  for  some  indication  of  the  spirit  of  the  times 
we  have  to  deal  with.  The  quarrel  had  arisen  on 
the  misunderstanding  of  a  word  between  the  gallants 
of  the  Court  that  might  have  been  at  once  explained 
away  but  for  the  bitterness  of  party  spirit  in  the  last 
years  of  the  reign  of  h'rancis  I.  ;  and  now  a  "  whole 
infinity  of  people  from  Paris,  scholars,  artisans,  and 
vagabonds,"  had  come  to  St.  Germain  en  Laye  to  see 
the  fight  and  discuss  the  chances  of  the  champions. 
Ch^taigneraie,  thick-set  and  strong,  with  a  large 
suite  of  followers  behind  him,  the  chosen  gallants 
of  that  company  of  noble  youths  whom  the  King 
showed  so  proudly  to  the  Venetian  ambassador,  with 
a  gorgeous  display  of  liveries  and  arms  and  banners, 
even  a  great  tent  spread  with  dainties  for  the  antici- 
pated victory,  and  crowded  with  plate  borrowed  from 
half  the  noble  houses  in  Paris — Chataigneraie  seemed 
more  than  a  match  for  the  tali,  thin,  slightly- made 
Sieur  de  Jarnac,  who  had  spent  so  long  a  time  in  the 

1  Bibl.    Nat.    Estampes,    Hist,    de   France,   reg.    Q.    b.    19.       For 
Michelet's  account  see  Macmillan  s  Magazine,  No.  374,  p.  130. 


CHENONCEA  UX  26  r 


vulgar  operations  of  making  his  will,  committing 
his  soul  to  God,  and  taking  lessons  from  an  Italian 
fencing-master. 

To  the  sound  of  many  trumpets  the  King  ap- 
peared in  the  balcony  above,^  his  face,  natural!}' 
clouded,  somewhat  troubled  with  the  thought  of 
the  risks  his  favourite  was  to  run.  Beside  him  are 
Diana  and  a  brilliant  suite  of  ladies  in  their  Court 
costumes.  But  a  long  and  wearying  delay  ensued, 
while  the  formal  preliminaries  were  gone  through. 
At  last  the  combatants  advance,  and  with  one  swift, 
sure  stroke  the  famous  "  coup  de  Jarnac  "  has  suc- 
ceeded, and  Chataigneraie  the  boastful  lies  bleeding, 
with  his  leg  half  severed,  on  the  ground.  The  King 
reluctantK'  approved  the  victor}'  and  moved  sullenly 
back  to  the  house  of  Baptiste  Gondy  nearer  Paris. 
But  all  was  not  }'et  over.  The  crowd,  angered  already 
at  their  long  wait,  hungry,  too,  so  far  away  from  the 
good  inns  of  Paris,  and  with  half-understood  feelings 
of  resentment  at  the  unfair  attitude  of  the  King  and 
the  haughtiness  of  the  Court  which  had  been  thus  un- 
wittingly put  on  its  trial,  broke  unrestrainedly  through 
the  fenced  arena  and  sacked  Chfitaigneraie's  tent. 
They  pocketed  the  plate,  they  ate  the  delicacies  raw , 
they  trampled  down  the  finery  and  furniture,  and 
at  last,  not  without  sound  scuffles  with  the  archers 
of  the  guard,  tramped  back  to  Paris  in   the   evening 

'  A  miniature  in  the  "  Cercmonic  <lcs  C]agcs  ilc  Hataillc,"  a  .MS.  in 
the  Hibl.  Nat.,  {^ivcs  many  details  of  a  judicial  combat  such  as  this. 


262  OLD  TOCRAIXE 


with  no  good  opinion  of  the  blessings  of  the  o])cning 
reign.  "  Ainsi  passe  la  gloire  du  monde  (jui  tiompc 
toujours  son  m.iitic,"  moralises  Viciiicvilk',  "])rin- 
cipalcmcnt  quand  on  cnticprcnd  (luclciuc  chose  conlrc 
le  droit  ct  I'cquitc." 

The  keynote  of  iiciir}-  ll.'s  character  and  of 
the  \-ears  that  were  to  come  was  slruc]^:  with  no 
uncertain  sound.  The  r'rance  that  had  vigour 
enough  to  rise  almost  unharmed  from  the  ex- 
travagances, the  mistakes,  the  wars  of  i'^rancis  I., 
was  crushed  by  the  desperate  foll)^  of  his  son,  b)- 
the  gambling  spirit  of  adventure  which  was  the 
one  alternative  to  the  excesses  of  party  struggle,  by 
the  fatal  negligence  and  misgo\ernmcnt  which  were 
responsible  for  the  horrors  of  the  Civil  War  and  the 
unspeakable  decay  amidst  which  the  last  of  the 
V^alois  was  assassinated. 

The  reign  of  Henry  II.  never  reached  the  dignit)' 
of  a  settled  government.  To  the  end  it  remained 
a  bitter  strife  of  parties,  of  Montmorencys  against 
Guises  or  Chatillons.  Guided  by  uncertain  leaders, 
whose  aims  were  for  their  own  advancement,  never 
for  their  country's,  France  looked  for  help  where 
none  was  to  be  found,  to  Italy  ^  and  Scotland.  In 
Scotland  the  Guises  were  already  strong,  and  carried 

^  The  siege  of  Sienna  and  the  heroism  of  its  defenders  are  descriljed 
in  the  Memoires  of  Monthic,  who  put  off  saying  "ce  mechant  et  vilain 
mot  Je  la  rends  "  to  the  very  last  extremity.  See  also  the  account  of 
the  floods  in  Italy  in  1558,  and  the  antiquities  laid  bare  by  them,  in 
Francois  de  Kabutin. 


HKNHV   11.,  K  1 


,       i  :  _.        I  ,1      _  (     luUCl     III    ihc-       I 

rifihi^  Mnrijuiii  (Ic  liicncourt  at  A/jiy-lc-Kitlcuu. 

J\t/>r0ifncei{  by  fcriiii'tilon  of  Hf,  Pfrkat,  Tourt. 


CHEXONCEA I  \\  265 


out  their  polic\-  b\'  the  marriage  of  their  niece,  iSIarie 
Stuart,  to  the  Dauphin  ;  England  was  alternately 
flattered  by  Catholic  alliances  and  disturbed  b\- 
connivance  with  Protestant  conspiracies,  until  in 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth  it  was  made  definitely  hostile 
by  the  tampering  of  the  Guises  with  Scotland  ;  and 
for  this  Marie  Stuart  was  to  pay  the  penalt)-. 

Within  the  kingdom  the  energies  that  should 
have  been  applied  to  State  affairs  were  consumed  in 
opposition  to  the  power  of  Diana,  and  in  the  counter- 
moves  of  her  supporters.  Catherine  attacked  the 
situation  with  her  characteristic  methods.  A  fete 
was  got  up  at  St.  Germain  with  Marie  Stuart  to 
adorn  it,  and  a  certain  ^liss  Eleming  whose  fresh 
beauty  served  to  attract  the  King  for  a  season  from 
the  duchess  ;  but  the  youthful  Scotchwoman  was 
no  match  for  the  widow,  and  fresh  measures  soon 
became  necessary.  The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  was  at 
this  time  filling  the  role  of  Georges  d'Amboise  and 
Briconnet,  and  a  fresh  conquest  of  Italy  was  at- 
tempted by  way  of  diversion,  but  it  failed  as  usual, 
and  the  Cardinal  only  succeeded  in  making  an 
cnenn-  of  his  ancient  benefactress,  Diana,  who  was 
strong  in  the  support  of  Montmorency  the  Con- 
stable. Yet  another  mistress  was  produced  to  tempt 
the  heart  of  rojalt)-  to  fresh  distractions,  one  Nicole 
de  Versigny,  who  was  to  reproduce  in  later  genera- 
tions the  intrigues  and  chicanery  of  Ilemy's  Court, 
in  the  person  of  that   Jeanne  dc  Saint    K<in\-  who 


266  OLD  TOURAIXE 


should  i;jivc  such  unpleasant  notoriety  to  a  land- 
holder in  Tourainc,  "the  mud  \olcano  "  Cardinal  dc 
Rohan,  the  unwilling;"  hero  of  the  diamond  necklace. 

Rut  more  serious  events  occurred  at  last,  and 
\\\l\\  them  appeared  the  one  pure  figure  in  this 
shameful  age,  the  Admiral  Coligny,  whose  life  is 
one  long  censure  of  the  shams  and  debauchery  of 
his  contemporaries.  At  St.  Ouentin  he  was  sacrificeci 
by  the  mismanagement  of  Montmorencx',^  and  the 
triumph  of  the  Guises  was  still  further  assured  by 
the  taking  of  Calais  from  the  English. 

"  It  was  time  for  the  party  of  Reform  to  fight  or 
die  ;  "  the  party  that  fought  for  Shakespeare  and  for 
Bacon,  for  Rembrandt  and  Spinosa,  for  Descartes  in 
I'rance  ;  the  part\-  which  had  alrcad\'  taken  a  firm 
hold  on  the  intellectual  sN-mpathies  of  the  nation, 
and  which  had  already  seen  the  blood  of  the  first 
martyrs  to  its  faith."      With  the  whole  extent  of  this 

^  See  the  account  of  the  siege  in  Francois  de  Rabulin,  who  also 
describes  the  taking  of  Calais. 

-  See  the  Journal  of  Louise  de  Savoie,  26th  Sept.  1522.  "Pierre 
Piefort  .  .  .  fut  brusle  tout  vif,  apres  que,  dans  le  donjon  du  chasteau 
il  eut  eu  la  main  coupee,  pour  ce  que  impiteusenient  il  avoit  pris  le 
corpus  Domini,  et  la  custode  qui  estoit  en  la  chapelle."  These  early 
outbreaks  of  the  Reformers  excite  less  sympathy  than  their  later  suffer- 
ings. Francis  I.  was  much  troubled  by  their  disorderly  proceedings  in 
Paris.  But  the  movement  to  which  they  first  gave  organised  expression 
had  already  attracted  a  certain  amount  of  notice  in  high  places  (though 
not  with  any  appreciation  of  their  strength  and  meaning  ;  see  the  chapter 
on  the  Conspiracy  of  Amboise).  In  December  of  the  same  year  Louise 
writes  :  "  Mon  fils  et  moi  par  la  grace  du  Saint  Esjirit  commen9asmes  a 
cognoistre  les  hypocrites  blancs,  noirs,  gris,  enfumes,  et  de  toutes  cou- 
leurs,  desquels  Dieu  par  sa  clemence  et  bonte  infinie,  nous  veuille 
preserver  et  deffendre. " 


CHEiYONCEA  UX  267 


movement  it  is  impossible  to  deal  here,  except  in 
the  cases  where  its  results  and  its  chief  lessons  arc 
prominently  brought  before  our  eyes,  as  they  are  at 
Amboise  and  Blois.  The  horrors  that  were  to  come  ' 
were  foreshadowed  in  the  terrible  scenes  behind  the 
Sorbonne  in  1557,  in  the  inquisitorial  power  given 
to  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  ;  and  in  the  Edict  of 
Ecouen.  Diana,  with  the  King  at  her  side,  had 
already  seen  the  shrieking  Protestants  raised  half- 
consumed  out  of  the  flames  to  be  continualh-  lowered 
into  them  again  until  the  human  cinder  ceased  to 
palpitate. 

But  of  all  this  Chenonceaux  knew  nothing,  ami 
before  leaving  the  troubles  and  the  tortures  of  this 
mistaken  reign  we  must  turn,  by  way  of  contrast,  to 
watch  the  life  of  the  Court  in  this  palace  b\'  the 
Cher,  before  Diana's  light  is  put  out  and  a  new 
mistress  comes  to  take  her  dwelling-place. 

^  For  accounts  of  the  movement  by  contemporary  writers  see  Pierre 
de  la  Place,  Elat  de  la  Religion  et  de  la  Repttbliqtie,  also  D'.\ul)igne's 
Martyrologie,  and  the  writings  of  the  Bourgeois  de  Paris,  in  MS.  in 
the  Biljl.  Nat.,  fonds  du  Puy,  No.  742,  from  151 5  to  1536,  and  pub- 
lished by  M.  Lalaune. 

It  is  a  simple  and  exact  enumeration  of  facts  without  much  comment, 
like  the  earlier  Journal  of  the  reigns  of  Charles  V'l.  and  diaries  VII. 


I  N  D  E  X 


[Note. — The  Appendix  has  been  omitted  in  the  references  of  this  Index, 
and  all  but  the  more  important  of  the  notes. 
A  number,  e.g.  34,  refers  to  p.  34  of  vol.  i.  ;  when  vol.  ii.  is  meant  it  is 
referred  to  thus  :  ii.  34.] 


.'\BD-EL-K.\DER,  4  ;   ii.  87 

.•\bd-el-Rahnian,  10 

.■\cropolis,  ii.  36 

Adela,  25 

-Adria,  98 

.\egidius,  34 

.Agen,  ii.  107 

Agincourt,  46,  103  and  note,   104, 

218  ;  ii.  113,  127 
Ahlden,  ii.  199 
.Alaric,  14  ;  ii.  36 
.Albany,  Duke  of,  ii.  29  note 
.Albret,  Charlotte  d',  ii.  131 

Jeanne  d',    228  ;  ii.    19,    28, 

31,  86,  90,  95,  96  and  note,  108, 
150.  152,  153.  155,  156 

John  d",  199 

Alcuin,  13,  15  and  note 
Alen9on,  103,  105 

D',  ii.  103 

Due  d',   48,   220,   222,  224, 

226 

Alexander  VI.,  Pope,  62,    199  ;   ii. 

130,  131 
Alfonso  of  Aragon,  109 
AUuye,  H6tel  d',  ii.  180 
Allys,  50 
Alnwick,  59 
.Alps,    148,    174,     175,    196,    217, 

223.  236 
Alva.  ii.  4 
Aniboise,    I.   2,    4.     II    and    note. 


18,  2C,  21,  27,  28,  34,  40.  58, 
91,  103,  III,  114,  136,  181, 
i88,  189,  212,  234,  241,  267  ; 
ii.  2,  5,  18.  34,  36-89,  90, 
123,  134,  143,  151,  18S,  210, 
222,  234,  238 

Bussy  d',    73  and   note  ;    ii. 

94,  103,  160 

Charles  d",  59,  189 

Conspiracy  of,  ii.  65-86 

Georges    d",    63,    64,     151, 

188,  190,  191  and  note,  193- 
195  and  note,  196,  197,  199, 
200,  205,  207,  208,  223,  265 

(Georges),  Cardinal  d',  ii.  54, 

55.  131 

Louis  d",  59 

Pierre  d",  188 

.America,  236  ;  ii.  234 
.Amiens,  171 
.Amplhill,  104 

.Amyot,  181,  237  ;  ii.  3,   150 
.Anabaptists,  ii.  71 
.Ancoiui,  143 
Andclot,    Colonel    d" 


ii.    21,    67, 


71 


Andre,  Saint,  258  ;  ii.  2 

Mademoiselle  dc,  ii.  1 1 

Andrclini,  Fauslo,  ii.  138 
Anet,  205,  257  ;  ii.  5,  63 
Angelo.   Micluicl,    173,   3o8,   336 ; 
ii.  63,  133 


270 


OLD  rOURAlNE 


Angely,  L',  ii.  197 

Angers,   12  tiolc,   14,  21,   22,   8r, 

143,     (AngitTs)     143    note,    160 

note  ;  ii.  53 
Anglclerrc,  Jeanne  d',  80 
Angoulcme,  ii.  221 

Comte  de,  212 

Francis  of,  202  ;  ii.   134  and 

note,  13s 

Isabelle  of,  80 

Madame  d',  ii.  136 

Marguerite  d',  ii.  96  note 

Anjou,   2  ;   Counts  of,    14,   18-28  ; 

men  of,  14  and  note,  17  ; 
Hammer  of,  21  -  25,  28,  34, 
42,  (Margaret  of)  58,  59,  79. 
89,  186,  188,  203  ;  ii.  41 
(Counts  of) 

D',  ii.  106 

•  Charles  d',  203 

Duo    d'    (Henri),    ii.    10,    11 

and  note,  92,  95,  97,  146,   157 

P'ulk  of,  163  note 

Marguerite  d',  90,  108,  213 

Marie  d',  58,  135 

R6n6  d',  no,  203 

•Annonain,  Pont  de  1',  28 

Antoine,  Tour  de  St.,  119 

.•\ntonine,  11 

Apennines,  177 

Aphrodite,  ii.  91 

Aquitaine,  10,  22  ;  ii.  36,  124 

-Arabs,  10,  11 

Aramis,  ii.  177 

Arbrissel,  D',  8,  74,  ^^,  78,  86 

Arc,    Jeanne   d',     38,    46,    50-54, 

56,  57,   68,  102,  105,  106,  140  ; 

ii.  113.  127,  194 
Ardier,  Paul,  ii.  218 
Aremburg,  23 
Argentan,  Tour  d',  56 
Argenton,  61 
Aristotelians,  ii.  2 
Armada,  ii.  160 
.Armagnac,   46,  47,  102,  103,  136, 

201 
— —  Marguerite  d",  ii.  54 
Armorican  Republic,  34 
Arms   and    armour    in  Chateau  of 

Amboise,  ii.  51  note,  52  note 


Arno,  176  ;  ii.  5 

Arou,  ii.  124 

Arques,  44 

Arragon,  Isabel  of,  148 

Arras,  Mailre  Jean  d',  96 

Artagnan,  D',  ii.  87,  179 

Artesano,  .Antonio,  109 

Arthur  of  Bretagne,    40,    43,    44, 

48 
Arthur,  King,  ii.  41,  238 
Assembly,  National,  ii.  15 
.Assisi,  St.  Francis  of,  132 
Asti,   95,    98,    99,    108-no,    113, 

114  7tote,  178,  191 
Athens,  12  ;  ii.  36 
Aubercourt,  D',  ii.  169 
Aubign(5,  U',  ii.  28  note,  159 

Agrippa   d",    3,    6 ;    ii.    82 

note 

Aubin,  St.,  ii.  129 

Augustus  the  Strong,  ii.  199 

.Aurora,  ii.  93 

Austria,  150,  199,  201,  215,  219 

Anne  of,  ii.  14,  212 

Archduke  Philip  of,  ii.  134 

Eleanor  of,  251 

Autin,      Due     d',     Julie      Sophie, 

daughter  of,  86 
Auton,  Jean  d',  150,  152  ?iote,  197  ; 

ii.  138 
.Autun,  10 

Bishop  of,  154,  156 

.Auvergne,  156  ;  ii.  107 
Avalon,  Isle  of,  ii.  41 
Avenelles,  Des,  ii.  70 
Avice  of  Gloucester,  43,  80 
Avignon,  46,  139;  ii.  157,  175 
Aymar,  80 

Azay-le-Rideau,  2,  30,  40,  41,  116, 
165,  247,  253  ,  ii.  22,  112,  203, 
205-214,  215 

B.\CBUC,   34 

Bacon,  266 

Baif,  De,  ii.  143,  150 

Bajazet,  142 

Balafrd,  Le,  ii.  26,  82,  87,  90,  164, 

173,  181 
Ballan,  30,  41,  222  note 
Balsac,  Katherine  de,  174  note 


INDEX 


271 


Balue,    Cardinal,    60,     142,     143, 

193  ;  ii.  131,  226 
Balzac,  9,  30,  32,   90  ;  ii.    22,   27, 

30  note.  III,  146,  238 
Barbarossa,  233 
Barry,  Godefroy  de,  ii.  69 
Basoche,  ii.  45,  228 
Basselin,  139 

Bassompierre,  Mardchal  de,  190 
Bartholomew,  Archbishop  of  Tours, 

42 
St.,  191  ;  ii.  2,  20,  30,  34,  83, 

91,  98,  117  note,  151,  156,  212 
Baugaredi,  or  Bagaudas,  ii.  40 
Bayard,    150,    151,   198,  201,  202, 

218,  225,  236,  250  ;  ii.  133 
Bayonne,  228,  229 
B6arn,    Henry,    Prince   of,    ii.    90, 

152 

University  of,  ii.  153 

Beaufort,  Uuc  de,  ii.  14 

Beaujeu,  Anne  de,  7,  61,  iii,  112, 

114,  167,  190,  204  ;  ii.  48 

Pierre  de,  154  note 

Beaujoyeulx,    M.    Balthasar  de,   ii. 

12 
Beaulieu,  21,  22,  116,  134  and  note 
Beaumont,  F. ,  70,  99 
Beauregard,  2  ;  ii.  216,  218 
Beauvais,  ii.  20,  152-154 
Becket,  Thomas,  26,  27,  41,  188 
Bcde,  15 
Bedford,  47,  48 
Beham,  Hans-Sebald,  238 
Bellay,  Du,  181,   228  ;  ii.    25,   48, 

150 

Martin,  221  note,  235 

Bellegarde.  Due  de,  ii.  197 
Bellini,  175 

Benedict,  St.,  27 

B<5rangcr,  57  ;  ii.  25 

licrengaria,  43,  135 

Bcrnaerts,  B. ,  ii.   131  note 

Bcrnis,  ii.  15 

Bcrri,    Duchcsse   de,    97   note  ;    ii. 

201 
Bti.y,  14,  47,    103,    106;   ii.    125, 

130 
FJcrihe,  50 
bcrthclol,  Gillcs,  253  ;    i.  205 


Besnie,  ii.  20,  99 

Besnard,  M.,  67,  68 

Bcuve,  Sainte,  181,  182 

Beze,  ii.  28  note,  151 

Biagrasso,  225 

Biencourt,    M.    le  Marquis   de,    ii. 

209  and  note 
Bietris,  50 
Bievre,  8 
Bigne,  La,  ii.  74 
Binasco,  151 
Biragues,  191 
Birco,  Thomas,  236 
Birocca,  220 
Biron,  ii.  153 
Bizago,  ii.  33 
Bizet,  Jehan,  ii.  125 
Black  Prince,  166 
Blanche,  43 

La  keine,  50 

Blois,  2,  9,  10,  19,  21,  24,  25, 
39,  42,  52,  66,  85,  99,  loi, 
103,  106,  107  and  note,  108 
and  note,  109,  no,  114,  134, 
158,  165,  171,  187,  196, 
203,  212,  226,  266 ;  ii.  17, 
31.  34-36,  54-56.  62,  68. 
70,  71,  80,  83,  87,  89,  90, 
III -182,  183,  188,  190,  203, 
210,  215,  216,  218,  221 

Counts  of,  14,  188  ;   ii.   194 

Boccaccio,  93 //o/t' ;  ii.  150 
Bodleian,  94  tiotc,  97  note 
Bohier,  .Antoine,  250,  252-254 

Thomas,  242,  245,  248-251 

Boileau,  86 

"Bois  de  Cerf,"  ii.  87,  88 

Du,  ii.  105 

Boisrobert,  ii.   196  note 
Bonne,  102 

Bonnivct,  220,  225  ;  ii.  57 
Hordeau.v,  10  ;   ii.  237 
Bordenaye,  De,  ii.  28  note,  153 
Borgia,  Ca;sar,  62-66,    191-194, 

196,    150,    198,    199  ;    ii.    130. 

131     and    note,     132    and    note, 

133 

Don    Alberto    Calisto    di,   ii. 

133  note 

Lucrezia,  ii.  133 


272 


01. 1^   TOURAINR 


Borgias,  150,  175  ;  ii.  131,  133  note 
Bouchet,  Du,  222  note 

Jean,  ii.  129 

Bouillon,  Due  dc,  ii.  106 
Bouhiinvilliers,  no 
Boulogne,  Count  of,  24 
Bourbon,  46,    103  and  note,    140  ; 

ii.  230 

Antoinc  de,  228  ;   ii.  67 

Antoinctio  de,  ii.  83 

Cardinal  dc,    67  ;   ii.    67,   92 

and  7iole 

Charles  de,  154-157  note 

■ Constable,     203,     222,     223 

and   note,    224,   229,    230,   234, 

255:  •'•  I 

Due  de,  ii.  14 

Henri  de,  ii.  201 

Louis  de,  ii.  69 

Louise  de,  85 

Madame  de,  ii.  136 

Pierre  de,  109,  222 

Ren6e  de,  82 

Suzanne  de,  222,  224 

Bourg,  Du,  ii.  67,  68 

Bourges,  12 «.,  192,237;  ii.  39«.,  130 
■  Archbishop  of,  ii.  162 

Le  Roi  de,  47,  135 

Bourgogne,   Com6diens  de  1' Hotel 

de,  ii.  45,  144 

Bourgueil,  28 

Bourr^e,  Jean,  166,  248  ;   ii.  46 

Bourse,  ii.  loi 

Bracieux,  ii.  181 

Bragclonne,  Vicomle  de,  ii.  179 

Brain,  73  note 

Brantome,  65,  160,  167,  212,  229, 
235,  254  note;  ii.  i,  11,  26,  28 
7iote,  30  note,  32  and  note,  33 
note,  34  note,  92,  139,  145,  150, 

155.  158.  190 

Bretagne,  103 

Anne     de,     loi     note,     112, 

131,  152,  160,  167-169,  178 
and  note,  181,  192,  193,  199, 
203,  204  note,  222  ;  ii.  52-55. 
131,  134  7iote,  136-140 

Marie  de,  82 

Br6z6,  Louis  de,  137  note,  252, 
25s 


Br^z(5,  Peter  de,  59 

Sieur  dc,  155 

Bri9onnet,  Cardinal,  248  ;  ii.  131 
Catherine,     242,     245,     246, 

250 

Jean,  166,  177,  191 

Bricnne,  Comtc  de,  ii.  176 
P>rissac,  Jean  de,  ii.  106 
Britain,  King  of,  ii.  41 
Brittany,  14,  27,  58,  lot  note,  112, 

144,    154  7iote,    167,    170,    171  ; 

ii.  125,  129 

Claude  of,  ii.  210 

Broglie,  Due  de,  205 

Brosse,  Pierre  de  la,  165 

Brunhilda,  7 

Brunyer,  Albert,  ii.   197 

Bruyn,  Messire,  ii.  225 

Buckingham,  ii.  174 

Bue,  Guion  de,  143  note 

Buffon,  ii.  15 

BuUant,  Jean,  ii.  63  and  7iote,  206 

Burgundians,  47 

Burgundy,    14,    27,   93,   99,    (John 

of)  100,  loi,  103,  106,  109,  136, 

143  ;  ii.  43,  124,  125 
Charles,    Duke    of,     60,     143 

7iote  ;  ii.  42 

Philip  of,  ii.  212 

Bury,  94 


Cabociiif.ns,  47 
Cadillac,  ii.  176 
Ccesar,    ii.    39   and    7iote,    40    and 

7iote 
Caesarodunum,  11,  12,  16 
Cain,  29 

Calahorra,  Bishop  of,  64 
Calais,  57,  59,  266  ;   ii.  25,  83 
Calvin,  173,    181,   216,   228,  .234; 

ii.  66,  211 
Calvinists,  ii.  71 
Camail,  Le,  107  7iote 
Cambrai,  League  of,  199 
Cambrcsis,  ii.  105 
Cambridge,  94  7iote  ;   ii.   193  note 
Cancalc,  ii.  43  7iotc 
Candes,  2,    11   7iote,  70  and   note, 

71  ;  church,  description  of,  185 


IXDEX 


273 


Canlerbun',  27,  41 

Capefigue,  M. ,  ii.  28  nofe,  31   note, 

33 
Capello,  214 
Capet,  14,  19 
Cappadocia.  87  note 
Capponi,   175 
Capua,  177 
Carcassonne,  ii.   112 
Carlotta,  ii.  131 
Carlyle,  56 

Carte,  Chateau  de  la,  30 
Castelnau,  50 

M.  de,  ii.  82  note 

De,  ii.    28  note,  70,  72,   73, 

75.  81  note 
Cavalli,  Marino  dei,  256  ;  ii.  227 
Caxton,  55 
Caylus,  ii.  159 
Caynon,  29 

Cazache,MessireJean  Bemardin,  151 
C6,  Fonts  de,  28 

Cellini,  Benvenulo,  230,  238;   ii.  63 
Cerberus,  34 
Cerissoles,  234 
Certosa,  94,  149 

Chabannes,  Sieur  de,  58,  135,  225 
Chabot,  Brion,  ii.  57 
Chalais,  ii.  197 
Chalus,  43  and  note 
Chambord,    2,   9,    165,    189,    212, 

213,  235,  246  ;  ii.  17,  62,    124, 

140.  181,  183-204,  215,  216 
Chambourg,  119;   ii.  193  note 
Champagne,  ii.   124,   184 
Champfleury,  M. ,  ii.  38 
Chantelle,  156 

(Jharlemagnc,  Tour  dc,  13,  15 
'harles,  father  of  Louis  XII.,  loi, 

102  and  note,  103  and  note 

the  Simple,  15,  16 

v.  (Emperor),  199,  214,  215, 

219,  220,  231,  232,  233  ;  ii.  48, 

54 

VI.,    95,    106,    195;    ii.  125, 

205 

—  VI  r..  6,  47,  56,  58,  73,  89, 

90,  93  note,  98  note,  127,  128, 
»35-  '37  »ote.  '66,  245  ;  ii. 
41,   127 

VOL.  I 


Charles  V'lIL,  44,  61,  65,  93,  94, 
loi  note.  III,  112,  144,  148, 
167,  170,  171,  176,  178  and 
note,  190,  191,  196,  197,  221, 
222,  253  ;  ii.  37-39,  43,  46-48. 
51,  129,  130,  156  note 

IX.,   85;    ii.  I,    10,    30,    31, 

33,    34,   91,   98,   99,    152,    153, 
157,  195,  212,  228 

X.,  ii.  217 

Chartier,  Alain,  105 
Chartres,  12  note,  27  ;  ii.  124,  161 
Chastelet,  ii.  105 
Chataigneraie,  260,  261 
Chateaubriand,  137  ;  ii.  203 
Chateaubriand,  Franfois  de,  229 
Chateaubriant,  Conitesse  de,  220 
Chateauneuf,  16 
Chatillon,  116  ;  ii.  151 
Chatillons,  ii.  20,  30,  71 
Chaucer,  95 
Chauniont,    2,    10,    27,    40,    134, 

165,  187-208,  248;  ii.  5,  ■yinote, 

36,  61,  62,  216,  222 

De,    Bishop    of   Montauban, 

154  note 

.Seigneur  de,  200 

Chenonceaux,  2,  4,  9,  39,  67,    137 

note,  165,  205,  239,  240-267  ;  ii. 

1-18,  25,  34,  41,   82,    115,    144, 

'45.    '53.    '82   note,    193,    195, 

200  note,  203,  210,  211 
Cher,    2,    21,    30,    116,   241,    242, 

267  ;  ii.  9,  17,  219,  233 
Chevalier,  Abb6,  ii.  40 

Elienne,  93  note 

Cheverny,  2  ;   ii.  161.  216,  218 
Chevreuse,  Madame  dc,  ii.  219 
Chicot,  ii.   II,  106,   158,  169  note 
Childebert,   121 

Chinon,  2,  1 1  note,  17,  22,  23,  26- 
28,  29-69,  70,  79,  92,  141, 
165,  167,  193;  ii.  10,  42,  112, 
130,  181,  205  tiote,  210,  222 

Choinct,  I'ierrc,  ii.  47 

Chouzy,  187 

Christ  Churcli,  Oxford,  94  note, 
\'2'2,  147  note,  204  note 

Chronicle,  English,  25 

Cicero,  175 


274 


OLD  TOUKAJXE 


Cimeti^re  des  Rois,  80 

Cinq  Mars,  2,  10,  90,  91,  160,  185, 
190  ;  ii.  197,  216,  222 

Pile  de,  ii.  222 

Civitas  Turoiuim,  11 

Clagny,  Sieur  de,  ii.  63 

Clarendon,  Constitutions  of,  27 

Claude,  199,  204,  213,  225  ;  ii. 
53.  56.  94.  99.  134  "ote,  136, 
139,  140,  143,    146 

Saint,  ii.  46 

Clement,  Jacques,  67  ;  ii.  20,  173, 
230 

Clement  VII.,  233 

Cleves,  Catherine  de,  ii.  95,  163 

Marie  de,  107 

Cloth  of  Gold,  Field  of,  219,  233 

Clothaire,  121 

Cloud,  St.,  ii.  173 

Clouet,  Fran9ois,  ii.  62  and  note, 
211,  227 

Jehan,  62  note 

Clovis,  14,  152,  201  ;  ii.  36,  41 

Coconnas,  ii.  20,  100,  102 

Coeur,  Jacques,  57,  127 

Le,  ii.  131  note 

Cognac,  ii.  54,  188 

Colbert,  186 

Coligny,  Admiral,  266  ;  ii.  21,  28, 
35  and  note,  67,  71,  72,  85,  86, 
90,  98  and  note,  99,  100,  102, 
151,  152,  155,  156  and  7iote, 
157,  171,  212 

Gaspard  de,  ii.  156  note 

Cologne,  14 

Colombieres,  41 

Columbe,  Michel,  93  ;  ii.  227 

Comestor,  Pierre,  ii.  125 

Commanderie,  41,  46 

Commines,  59-62,  71,  92,  114 
note,  138  and  ««?/«,  143,  144,  152 
note,  154  7iote,  171,  174,  176- 
178    and    note,    190,    191  ;    ii. 

46-48.  51 
Communism,  ii.  74 
CompostcUa,  14 
Concinis,  ii.  175 
Concordat,  219 
Cond^,  ii.  14 
Prince  of,  67,  68  ;  ii.  20,  31, 


67,    69-72,   80,   8r,    84-86,    90, 
97,    102,    152,    153,     157,    218, 

234 
Cond(5,  Princess  of,  190  ;  ii.   174 
Confr(;rie    de    la    Passion,    ii.    45, 

144 
Coni,  149 
Conquereux,  20 
Constance,  43 
Constant,  Benjamin,  205 
Constantinople,  58,  234;  ii.  218 
Contarini,   169,  170 
Contes  Drolatiques,  9 
Conti,  Prince  of,  ii.  201 

Princess  of,  85 

Conty,  Evrard  de,  ii.   126 
Cordova,  Bishop  of,  ii.  135 

Gonsalvo  di,   198 

Cormery,  1 16  ;  ii.  182  note,  213  note 

Cormier,  St.  .Vubin  de,  112 

Corneille,  ii.  144 

Correro,  Giovanni,  ii.  26,  33 

Cortes,  236 

Cosmo,  St.,  ii.  236 

Cosson,  ii.  193 

Costa,  Hilarion,  ii.   137 

Coudray,  Fort  du,  38,  50 

Cougny,  M.  de,  67 

Couillatris,  31 

Courcelles,  Pierre  de,  73 

Courier,  P.  L. ,  10;   ii.  185,  202 

Coutanciere,  73  7iote 

Couzieres,  ii.  220,  221 

Cracow,  ii.  157 

Crecy,  46 

Credit  Foncier,  ii.  16 

Croi.\,  La,  ii.  6 

Croye,  Ladies  of,  9 

Crusades,  74 

Cumberland,  ii.  200 

Cyprus,  95  ;   ii.  1 1 

Cytherea,  ii.  93 

D.xciEK,  M.\D.'\ME,  90 
Danett,  Thomas,  152  note 
Dante,  139,  144 
Dauphind,  135 
Daurat,  Jean,  ii.  2 
Davila,  ii.  11,  32 
Dayelle,  ii.  151 


INDEX 


275 


Delorme,  Marion,  9 

Denis,  St.,  16,  217  ;  ii.  6,  57 

Church  of,  ii.  88 

R61igieux    de.    99    note,    10 1 

note 
Denys,  St.,  ii.  52 
Descartes,  266  ;  ii.  238 
Deschamps,  Eustache,  ii.  125 
Diana,  73,  155,  205  ;  ii.  3-5,  30 
Diderot,  ii.  15 
Di6,  Saint,  ii.  135 
Dijon,  93 

Dinan,  ii.  104,  105 
Dino,  Duchesse  de,  ii.  218 
Diocletian,  ii.  40 
"  Discontented,"  ii.  68 
Domremy,  49 
Dou6,  ii.  44 
Dreux,  99  ;  ii.  152 
Due,  Viollet  le,   82,    121,  246  ;  ii. 

114,  186,  188 
Ducos,  Roger,  ii.  39 
Dumas,  73  note,   186  ;   ii.  4  note, 

27  note,  34,    87,    100  note,    144, 

159,  196  note 
Dunois,  9,  57,  loi,  106,  109,  iii, 

154  note  ;   ii.  127 
Dupin,  M.  Claude,  ii.  15 

Madame,  ii.   14-16 

Diirer,  .Albert,  ii.  131  note 
Durvvard,  Quentin,  9 

ECOUE.V,    267   (Edict   of)  ;    ii.    63 

and  note 
Effranats,  Des,  ii.  171 
Kgypt.  135 
Elboeuf,  Due  d',  158 
Eleanor  of  .Xquitaine,  25,  43,  44 
sister   of   Charles    V.,     228, 

229 
Ellas,  Count  of  Maine,  23 
Elizabeth,  Madame,  ii.  203 

Princess,  ii.  4 

Queen  of  England,   265  ;    ii. 

35.  7'.  95.  '57  and  note 
Emperor,  148,  149,  214,  224,  226, 

227,  234  ;  ii.  I 
Enclo>,  Mademoiselle  dc  1",  ii.  212 
Encyelopii-disis,  ii.  15 
Enghien,  Mademoiselle  d',  ii.  14 


England,  23,  25,  42,  8r,  94  note, 
95,  103  and  note,  106,  169,  171, 
201,  215  ;   ii.  21,  71,    124,    185, 

234 

Henrietta  of,  ii.  212 

Entragues,  197  ;   ii.  159 
Epernon,    D',    ii.    159,    161,    175, 

176 
Epistemon,  182 
Epitherses,  182 
"  Escadrcn  volant,"  ii.   3,   31  and 

note,  72,  91,  93,  139 
Escar,  D',  157 

Essarts,  Seigneur  des,    i.   150 
Este,  Anne  d',  ii.  82,  163 

Beatrice  d",  148,  149 

Estienne,  228  ;  ii.  3,  42 
Estoile,  D',  ii.  11,  160 
Estrdes,  Diane  d',  ii.  11 
Gabrielle  d',  ii. 

174.  195 
Etable,  Lefebvre  d",  237 
Etampes,  Duchesse  d',  251 
Ku,  Count  d",  103  note,  105 
Eudes  II.,  16,  163 
Eugene  IV.,  Pope,  93  note 
Europe,    74,    77,    172-174, 

220  ;  ii.  47,  174 
Eustace,  26 

121 
ii-  37.  87,  177.  178, 


13.    107. 


219, 


Eustache,  St. 
Evelyn,  187  ; 

235.  236 
Evrault,  jy 
E.\eter  College  Chapel,  ii.  38  note 


F.VBRE,  M.  Joseph,  54 

Kalaise,  44 

Faust,  ii.  44 

Fayette,  Madame  de  la,  86 

l'"elix,  9,  30 

Ferdinand,  198,  201 

Fere,  La,  ii.  105 

Fernel,  ii.  2 

Ferrara,  1 1 2 

Duke  of,   148  ;   ii.  82 

Ferrieres,  ii.  72 
Feudalism,  4,  5.   104 
Fevre,   Robert  le,  ii.  217 
l''iesf|ue,  Comtesse  de,  ii.  1 50 
Filarete,  Antonio,  93  note 


276 


OLD  TOUKAINE 


Fizes,  Simon  de,  ii.  91 

Flanders,  14,  iii  ;  ii.  51,  61,  107, 

124 

Margaret  of,  201 

Fleece,  Golden,  Order  of,  ii.  43 
Fleix,  ii.  107 

Fleming,  Miss,  265  ;  ii.  22 
Flcur,  De  Maison,  ii.  25  and  note 
Fleuranges,    174    note,     203,     218 

7iote  ;  ii.  56,  57,  134 
Florence,  114,  176,  177,  197,  200, 

213  ;  ii.  30,  62,  133,  206 
Florio,  Francesco,  93  note 
Foix,  Comte  de,  no  yiote 
Gaston  dc,  201,  202,  223  and 

note  ;  ii.  57 
Germaine    de,    ii.    131,    132 

note 

Mar^chal  de,  225 

Fontaine,  La,  ii.  114 
Fontainebleau,   3  ;    ii.   31,   61,   63, 

181,  195,  206 
Fontaine  des  Innocents,  ii.  117 
Fontenoy,  ii.  199,  200 
Fontevrault,  i,  (Forest  of)  2,  24,  42- 

44,  70,  91,  no  Tiote  \  ii.  238 
Force,    Caumont    de    la,     ii.    102, 

152 
Forges,  Les,  59 
F'ornova,  177 
Fosseuse,  La,  ii.  106,  150 
Fouquet,  Surintcndant,    186,   249  ; 

ii.  87 
■-  Jean,   93  and  note,    94  note  ; 

ii.  62  and  note,  227 
France,  Claude  de,  ii.  145 
Jeanne  de,  62,  no  note,  in, 

192  ;  ii.  52,  130 
Madame    Madeleine    de,    ii. 

143 

Ren6e  de,  ii.  82 

Francis  I.,  82,  93,  loi,  115,  127, 
131,  134,  155,  157,  196, 
211-239,  240,  251,  255,  258, 
260  ;  ii.  17,  48,  53-58.  61, 
62,  64,  66,  82  note,  91,  112, 
114,  116,  123,  129  note,  139, 
140,  146,  156  note,  188,  189, 
190,  194,  195,  210,  211,  218 

II.,  ii.  5,  6  and  note,  18,  19, 


21  note,  30,  31,  33,   65,    85,   901 

146 
Franks,  14  ;   ii.  41 
Fr(idegon(.le,  6 

Frederick,  Prince  Palatine,  229 
Frcundsberg,  229 
Froissart,  97  note  ;   ii.   1 24 
Fronde,  3  ;  ii.   177,   218,   219,  225 
Fulk  of  Anjou,  163  note 

Count,  23,  24 

the  Good,  16,  19 

Nerra    (Black    Falcon),     20 

22,  26,  28,  39,  40,  41,  88,  119, 

133.    134    ^"d    note,    141,    163, 

165,  185,  188  ;   ii.  219 

Rechin,  23,  141 

the  Red,  18 

Fuller,  Thomas,  55 

Gaigniekes,  196 
Gaillard,  222  note 

Chateau,  43,  44 

Galitzin,  Prince,  ii.  12 

Gambetta,  L(5on,  ii.  237 

Gandia,  Duke  of,  62 

Gargantua,  85  ;   ii.  i8g,   193 

Garigliano,  198,  199 

Gascons,  174 

Gascony,  25  ;   ii.  106 

Gaston,  ii.   112,  113 

Gatien,  St.,  12,  16;  ii.  226 

Gaul,  II 

Gautier,  ii.  in,  213 

Gelais,   Saint,    loi  note,    107  note, 

150  ;  ii.  128,  130,  145 
Gelduin,  188 
Genep,  136 
Geneva,  234  ;  ii.  70 
Genoa,  109,  173,  199,  223 
Genoese,  139 
Geoffrey,  22.  23,  25,  26 

of  Brittany,  40 

Greygown,  19,  121 

son  of  Henry  II.,  40 

George,  St.,  37  ;  ii.  66 
Germain,  St.,  ii.  22 

I'Auxerrois,  ii.  100,  117 

en  Laye,  260,  265 

Germany,   55,   138,    149,   215  ;    ii. 

71.  143 


/XDEX 


277 


Gerson,  140 

Gi6,  Mar^chal  de,    112,    171,    177, 

201  ;  ii.  53-55.  58 
Giustiniano,  Marino,  ii.  29 
Glasgow,  ii.  16 
Gondi,  ii.  33 
Gondy,  Baptiste,  261 
Gonzague,  Marie  de,  190 
Good  Hope,  Cape  of,  236 
Gorenflot,  ii.  158 
Goujon,  Jean,  205,  257  ;  ii.    5,  63 

and  note,  102,  116  and  note,  117 

and  note,  206,  209 
Grammont,  Seigneur  de,  197 
Grandchamp,  M. ,  ii.  155 
Grandet,  Eugenie,  90 
Gregory  (of  Tours),    12,   34,    163  ; 

ii.  40,  222  note 
Grenoble,  225 
Greve,  St.  Jean  en,  ii.  68 
Gringoire,  116 
Groslot,  ii.  150 
Guard,  Scottish,   141,    174  ;  ii.  79, 

170 
Guast,  Du,  ii.  94  and  note 
Guesclin,  Du,  46,  171,  245,  246 
Guicciardini,  6r,  iii 
Guienne,  57  ;   ii.  61 

Eleanour  de,  80 

Guiscard,  Robert,  203 

Guise.  66,  158 

Cardinal  de,   ii.   21,    67,    69, 

71,  76.   81,   84.    149,    152,    163, 

164.  168.  172 
Claude  de  Lorraine,  Due  de, 

ii.  21 
Due  de,    185  ;   ii.    i,    2   note, 

221 

Duchesse  de,  85  ;  ii.  150 

Fran9ois   de,   ii.  20,   21,   69, 

71,     80-85,     94'    98    and    note, 

149.  152 
Henri    de,    ii.    20,    35,    90, 

93-95'     97i    "2,    152,    158  and 

note,      159,     161-164,    169-171, 

229  and  note,  230 

Tour  de,  16 

Guis>.*s,   203,   217,   234,   258,  262, 

266;    ii.    12,    17,    19,    22,     25, 

v>.     ?i.    60-68,     70-72,   74-76, 


8r,    82,    84-86,    149,    151,  158, 

161,  179 
Gutenberg,  ii.  44 
Guthrie,  56 
Guyot,  Port,  70 

H.\LDE,  Du,  ii.  168 

Hanover,   Electoral    Prince  of,    ii. 

199 
Hardouin,  Bishop  of  Tours,  121 
Harembourges,  50 
Harlay.  ii.  20 
Haton,  Claude,  ii.  145 
Hautefort,     Mademoiselle    de,     ii. 

196  and  note 
Henry  I. ,  King  of  France,  22 
n.,  205,  217,  239,  252,  254, 

258,    259  and  note,    262,    265 ; 

ii.  I,  2,  4,  31,  33,  65,   66,   145, 

146,  211 

HI.,  39,   67  ;  ii.   20,   30,    35, 

46,  83,  90,  114,  140,    144,    158, 

162,  163,    173,    212,    228,    229 
and  note 

IV.,  3,  190,  228  ;  ii.  13,  19, 

84,  174,  195,  216 

V.  (Comte  de  Chambord),  ii. 

202 
Henry  I.  of  England,  23,  24 

n. ,  King  of  England,  16,  (of 

Anjou)   20,     24-26,    39-41,    47, 
79-81,  188 

son  of  Henry  H.,  40 

HI.  of  England,  80 

v..  Emperor,  23 

V.  of  England,   105 

VI.  of  England,  108 

VJII.,  204,  219.  232,  234 

Heptanicron,  226,  235  ;   ii.  96  note 
Hcricault,  M.,  104  ftute,  105 
Ilcrniitc,  Tristan  1",    142  ;  ii.    226, 

227 
Hcrv<5,  13 

HiUlebert,  Archbishop,  24 
Hohenstaufen,  203 
Holbein,  238 
Holinshed,  55  note 
Hiiilnnd,  ii.  234 
Holy  Land,  77 
lldpital,  Dc  r,  ii.  30,  28,  loa 


278 


OLD   TOUKAINE 


Horloge,  Tout  de  1',  13,  37 
Hubert,  St.,  ii.  37 
Hugo,  Victor,  8,  10  ;  ii.  144,  196 
Hugon,  Tour  du  roi,  16 
Huguenots,  216,    234  ;  ii.   10,   33, 
34,    67.    68,    70,    71,    73,     75. 

79.    90.    95.    97-99.    143.    144. 
149,    150.    152,    163   note,    233, 

234 
Hundred  Years'  War,  5,  46 
Hurault,  Philippe,  ii.  216 
Huy,  ii.  104 

INDRE,  I,  21,  30,  70,  116,  119 
and  note,  241  ;  ii.  206,  214, 
219 

Ingelger,  18 

Isabel,  43 

of  Bavaria,  7 

Isabella,  94 

Isabelle,  Princess,  102 

Issoudun,  ii.  132  7wte 

Italy,  55,  61,  65,  66,  93.  94, 
III,  150,  156,  159,  172-175. 
191,  199,  200,  202,  205,  211, 
221,  229,  233,  236,  247,  262, 
265  ;  ii.  38,  47,  48,  51,  53, 
54,  57,  62-64,  84,  129,  132 
and  note,  137,  220,  227 

Ivry,  ii.  130 

Jacquerie,  139 

Jacques,  Jehan,  97 

Jaligny,  Guillaume  de,  154  tiote 

James,  Mr.  Henry,  ii.  37  note,  186, 

202 
■ King  of  Scotland,  ii.  21 

III.  of  Scotland,  ii.  29  note 

V.  of  Scotland,  ii.  143 

Jarnac,  260;  ii.  86,  90,  95,  152 
Jean  Sans  Peur,  100,  106 
Jchanne,  50 

Jerusalem,  14,   22-24,  4°.  45-  163 

note,  203  (King  of) 
Jews,  173 

Jodelle,  Estienne,  ii.  20,  144 
John  the  Good,  King  of  France,  94 

Knights  of  St. ,  46 

Lackland  (King  of  England), 

40,  41,  43,  44,  80,  135 


Joinville,  Prince  de,  ii.  163,  230 
Jones,  Mrs.  Watts,  142,  158 
Josephus,  94  note 
Jovius,   Paulus,   65,    147  note,    154 

7iote  ;  ii.  131  note 
Joycusc,  Due  de,  ii.  12,  159 
Juan,  Don,  ii.   105 
Julian,  Emperor,  13 
Julicn,  St.,  22 
Juvenal,  92 

Kant,  5 

King,  the  Catholic,  ii.  33 

Kirkcudbright,  58 

Knights  Templars,  41,  45 

Konigsmarck,  Aurora  von,  ii.  199 

Count  Philip  von,  ii.  199 

Lafosse,  M.  Tol'ciiari),  68 

Lalain,  Comte  de,  ii.  105 

Lamarck,  258 

Lameire,  167 

Lancaster,  58,  90 

Lancerre,  Comte  de,  ii.  73 

Landor,  56  ;  ii.  238 

Langeais,   2,  21,  34,  68,  90,  91, 

116,    160,    186,  189,   192,    248  ; 

ii.  17,  112,  115 

Duchesse  de,  9,  1 1  and  note 

Langey,  181,  182 
Larchant,  Sieur  de,  ii.  169 
Lautrec,   202,   218,  220  and  note, 

231,  249 
Laval,  Guy  de,  135 
League,   Catholic,  66  ;   ii.    35,   86, 

150,  158,  167,  173,  230 
Lecouvreur,  Adricnne,  ii.  199 
Leczinski,  Stanislas,  ii.  190,  199 
Legrand,  Jacques,  99  and  note 
Leonardo,  147,  175 
L6ran,  M.  de,  ii.  100 
Lerins,  Comte  de,  ii.  132 
Lcscot,  Pierre,  ii.  63  and  note,  116 

note,  117,  206 
Letellier,  J.  B. ,  ii.  233 
Lidorius,  12 
Liege,  ii.  103,  104 

Bishop  of,  ii.  104 

Lignieres,  Captain,  ii.  72 


INDEX 


279 


Ligny,  Seigneur  de,    151,  152  and 

note 
Lippomano,  Girolamo,   ii.    12,  87, 

193,  229 
Livarot,  ii.   159 
Liv)',  171 
Lizet,  224 
Loches,   2,   4,    10,    18,  20,  21,  42, 

56,  61,  66,  90,  1 16-159,  (church, 

description    of)     120-128,    160, 

165,  191,  224,  247,  255  ;  ii.  88, 

176,  210,  219 
Loignac,  ii.  171 
Loir  et  Cher,  2 
Loire,  Charity  sur,  ii.   10 
Lonibardy,  95,  149 
London,  Tower  of,  104,  106 
Longchamps,  ii.  189 
Longueville,  Duchesse  de,  168  ;  ii. 

219 
I.x)rges,  Comte  de,  ii.  4 
Lorme,  Marion  de,  ii.  197 
Lorraine,  Charles  de,  158 

Christina  of,  ii.  164 

Claude  de,  ii.  2  note,  21 

Duchess  of,  ii.  101 

(House  of)  203,   229  (Court 

of),  265  (Cardinal  of),  267 
(Cardinal  of),  ii.  20  (Cardinal 
de).  86,  95,  146,  158 

Louise  de,  ii.  11,  12 

Loudun,  21,  26 

Louis,  15 

Dauphin,  109  ;   ii.  127 

VI.,  23,  25 

XI.,  3,  7,  58,61,   73,  92,  93 

and  note,  98  note,  104,  1 10-112, 
125,  135.  137.  i38and»(?/d',  139, 
140,  142,  143  and  note,  (Chron- 
icles of)  144,  166,  171,  172,  188, 
190,  195,  203,  223  ;  ii.  10,  27, 
42,  43,  45,  46,  107,  128,  129, 
130.  164 

XII.,  61,  62,  82,  90,  93,  loi 

and  note,  108  note,  110,  114  and 
note,  128,  131,  144,  149,  150, 
152,  190  -  192,  196,  197, 
201,  203,  204  and  nott,  212, 
221,  223,  236,  253;  ii.  52,  61, 
112,    113,    128,    139   and   note, 


132,    134   and    note,     135,    139, 

149,  156  note,  163,  177,  194 
Louis    XIII.,    ii.    174,    195,    221, 

222 
XIV.,   3,  7,  39,  249  ;  ii.  14 

45,  177-179,  190,  195  and  7wte, 

198,  211,  218 

XVI.,  89 

St.,  44,    135,    165,  223  note; 

ii.  I 
Louise,  67 
Louvre,    81,   98  note  ;  ii.    20,   91, 

96,  98,    100-102,  106,  117  note 
Luc,  St. ,  ii.  1 06 
Lucan,  ii.  140 
Lucca,  78  ;    ii.  229 
Lucien,  9 

Lu9on,  Bishop  of,  197 
Ludovico  il   Moro,    112,    113  and 

note 
Luitgard,  15 
Lulli,  ii.  198 

Lusignan,  Geoffrey  of,  44 
Guy  of,  40 

Hugues  de,  80 

Luther,  173,  234 
Luynes,  2,  10,  91,  160 

Due  de,  185  ;  ii.  175,  221 

Lyons,  14,  152,  155,  156,  178 
Archbishop  of,  ii.  167,  168 

Mabel,  Duchess,  149 
Mabille,  M,,  133,  163 
Macabre,  Danse,  48,  204 
Mach6,  Saint,  169 
Machiavelli,  61,  11^  note,  1-J2-  176 

198;  ii.  133 
Madeleine,  La,  121 
Mademoiselle,  La  Grande;  ii.  14 
Madrid,  225,  227,  231  ;  ii.  189 
MailM,  ii.  222 

Maine,  14,  21,  23,  24,  41,  50 
Maine  et  Loire,  2 

Prefect  of,  81 

Maintenon,    Madame   de,    7,    86 

ii.  198,  212 
Malhcrbc,  ii,  26  note 
Malifaud,  M..  78 
Malincs,  Saint,  ii.  171 
Mule,  St.,  Bishop  of,  177 


2So 


OLD  TOURAIXE 


Mans,  Le,  12  note,  14,  22-24,  40> 

97  and  twte  ;  ii.  222 
Mansard,  ii.  113,  123,  216 
Marais,  Rue,  ii.  67 
Marche,  Hugh  de  la,  44 

Olivier  de  la,  136  note 

Robert  de  la,  ii.  57,   134 

Margaret,  27,  212,  226,  227,  235, 

239 ;  >'•  56 

Margot,  La  Reine,  7  ;   ii.    34,   90- 

108,  114 
Maria  Galeazzo,  148 

Theresa,  ii.  200 

Marignano,  203,  218,  223  ;  ii.  6r, 

219 
Marigny,  253 
Mannoutier,  13,  18  ;   ii.  226 

Jean  de,  ii.  39  note 

Marot,  Clement,  73,  216,  220  note, 

222  note,  237,   255  note ;  ii.  44, 

79,  96  note 
Marques,  Jean,  245 

Pierre,  245 

Marseilles,  63 
Martcau,  Chapelle,  ii.  167 
Martel,  Charles,  10,  11,  15,  (Geof- 
frey) 22,  30,  152 

Geoffrey,  73,  88 

Martin,  St.,  10,  13-16,  18,  19,  42, 

51,    71,     163;     ii.    40  note,    48 

(church  of),  226,  235 
Matilda  of  Anjou,  23-25 

Empress,  21 

Maugiron,  ii.  159 

Maurepas,  Comte  de,  ii.  200 

Maurevel,  ii.  98 

Maurice,  St.,  12 

Maximilian,    Emperor,     112,     149, 

150,  169,  170,  201 
Maximus,  ii.  41 
Mayence,  14 
Mayenne,  19,  28 

Due  de,  66 ;  ii.  230 

Mazarin,  ii.  14,  131,  179 

Mcaux,  Bishop  of,  228 

Medea,  95 

Medicis,  175  ;  ii.  31 

Catherine    de,   7,    115,    203- 

207,   217,    233,    251,   258,    259 

note,  265  ;  ii.  i,   3  and  note,  5, 


10-12,  15,  16,  19-35,  66,  67,  72, 
80,  83,  85,  91,  93,  95,  96, 
98,  99,  145,  146,  149-152,  154 
7iote,  156,  172,  211,  212,  229, 
230 

Medicis,  Cosmo  de,  233  ;  ii.  217 

Jean  de,  229 

Lorenzo  de,  175  ;  ii.  132 

■ Marie  de,  ii.  174-176,  221 

Piero  de,  175 

Mediterranean,  216 

Medusa,  ii.  9 

Megrin,  St.,  ii.  159 

Mdhun  sur  Yevre,  58 

Mercceur,  Duchesse  dc,  ii.  13 

M(5r(?,  Poltrot  de,  ii.  97 

M(5riot,  ii.  145 

Merovingians,  133 

Merton  College,  O.xford,  ii.  38  note 

Meschinot,   105  and  note 

Metz,  22  ;  ii.  2  and  note,  83,  175 

Meudon,  Cur6  de,  33 

Meuse,  ii.  103 

Me.Kico,  215,  236 

Me.xme,  St. ,  34 

M(5zieres,  Philippe  dc,  95 

Michael,  St.,  54 

Order  of,  ii,  43,  131 

Michel,  Mont  St.,  54,  119  ;  ii.  43 
note,  112 

Michelet,  65,  140,  193,  223,  237, 
257  note  ;  ii.  22,  30  note,  143, 
188 

Michiel,  Giovanni,  ii.  32,  35 

"  Mignons,"  ii.  20,  31  7U)tc,  106, 
159,  160 

Milan,  94,  95,  98  and  vole,  108, 
109,  112,  113  and  note,  114  and 
note,  147-151,  202,  203,  220, 
223  ;  ii.  125 

Milieu,  Chateau  du,  37,  56 

Minard,  Antoine,  ii.  68 

Minerva,  93  note  ;   ii.  9 

Mir6,  30 

Mirebeau,  21,  26,  44 

Molay,  Jacques,  45 

Mole,  La,  ii.  100,  102 

Moliere,  ii.  45,  144,  198,  199 

Monaco,  Prince  of,  ii.  133  note 

Monsieur,  158 


IXDEX 


Monstrelet,  loi  nole,  103  tiote 
Montaigne,  61,  (Florio's)  152  note 

181,  221  note  ;  ii.  3,  20,  160 
Montalais,  ii.  179 
Montauban,  Admiral  de,  171 

Bishop  of,  154  note,  190 

Roman    de    kenaud    de,    ii. 

128 
Montbazon,   2,  21,  116,  119,    134 

143  ;  ii.  219,  221 

Duchesse  de,  ii.  220 

Duke  of,  ii.  175,  221 

Montcontour,  ii.  10,  95 
Montespan,  Madame  de,  86  note  ; 

ii.  198 
Montesquieu,  ii.  15 
Montezuma,  215 
Montfaucon,  221,  222  note,  250 
Montfen-,  ii.  171 
Montgomery,  ii.  4 
Montholon,  ii.  161,  162 
Montlieu,  ii.  23 
Montluc,  234 
Montmorencj',  216,  234 
Anne  de,  251,    265,    266  ;  ii. 

20,  21  note,  57,  66,  85,156  note, 

212 
Montfjensier,  ii.  loi 

Duchesse    de,    ii.    12,    163, 

167 

Madame  de,  ii.  19,  82 

Mademoiselle  de,  85  ;   ii.  177, 

179.  197,  212,  218 
Montrc-sor,  21 

Due  de,  ii.  219 

Montreuil,  88 

Montrichard,    21,    116,    184  ;     ii. 

219 
Montsoreau,  26,  (Mademoiselle  de) 

60,  73 

Countess  of,  ii.  103 

Diane  de,  ii.  107 

I^  Dame  de,  ii.  160 

Mordrcd,  ii.  41 

Morel,  ii.  151 

Moro,   11,  147  and   note,    148-151, 

154  and  note,  197 
Mortara,  152 

Mortcmart,  Seigneur  dc,  106 
Moulin,  Tour  du,  39 


Moulins,  135,  156;  ii.  13  (Chateau 

de) 
Muret,  68  ;  ii.  3 
Murus,  88 
Mystery  Plays,  ii.    43,   44,    52,   56, 

227 

N.-\MBU,   SlELR  DE,  ii.    I70 

Namur,  239  ;  ii.  105 
Nan9ay,  M.  de,  ii.  100,  101 
Xangis,  Marquis  de,  ii.  197 
Nantes,  14  ;    ii.  53,  55,  69-71,  131 

Edict  of,  ii.  233,  234 

Naples,   65,    112,    113,    148,    173, 

177,  198,  202,  229  ;  ii.  51,  132 
nole,  229 

King  of,  109  ;  ii.  131 

Napoleon,  149,  203  note 
Narbonese,  10 
Narbonne,  71,  72,  94 
Nassau,  William  of,  ii.  156  nole 
Navarre,  ii.  74,  124 

Antoine  of,  ii.  20,  31,  67,  85, 

86,  90 

Henry  of,   66,    67,    85,   228  ; 

ii.  10,  20  (Prince  of),  28,  31 
note,  86,  91,  96,  97,  99,  100, 
102,  106,  114,  150,  152,  157 
and  note,  173,  230,  234 

House  of,  94  note 

King  of,  ii.  131,  132,  230 

■  Pierre  de,  218  and  note 

Queen  of,  213,  228,   237  ;  ii. 

10,    II,  88.   96  note,    153,    156, 

194,  212 
Nemours,  138 
Due  de,  202  ;  ii.  54.  73,   74, 

163 
Ncpveu,    Pierre  le,   246  ;  ii.    188, 

205 
NV-rac,  228,  237  ;  ii.  106,  107,  151 
Netherlands,  199 
Neuilly,  Dc,  ii.  167 
Nevers,  Madame  de,  ii.  91,  137 
Nile,  13s 
N'ini,  205 
.Vuirmouiii-r,  Marquis  de,  ii.  92 

Marquise  de,  ii.  19,  92,   167 

Noizay,  ii.  72,  73 
Nominalists,  138 


2i>2 


OLD  TOURAJNE 


Nonnains,  Pont  aux,  28  note,  79 
Normandy,    21-23,     25,    59,    137 

vote,  191,  200  ;  ii.  85 

Seneschal  of,  1 55 

Novara,    113,  114  ftotc,  151,    177, 

191,  197,  202 
Nuncio,  Papal,  ii.  80 

Odo,  10,  19  ;  ii.  41 

Count  of  Blois,  20,  21 

Odos,  Castle  of,  239 
Oglethorpe,  General,  204  note 
Olivier,  Chancellor,  ii.  73,   75,   76, 

150 
Onzain,  187 

Or,  Chateau  de  I'lle  d',  89 
Orleans,  9,  12  Jiote,  46,  48,  52,  54, 

106  ;  ii.  74,  85,    134,  177,    194, 

233 

Duke    of,    ii.    80,    82    note, 

143 
Three  Dukes  of,  92-115,  144, 

149,    152,    154   note,    167,    170, 

177,  178  and  7iote,  190 
Orleans,  Charles  d',  loi,    103  and 

note,  104,  105  (his  poetry),    196; 

ii.  113,  126,  127,  139 

Gaston  d',    brother  of  Louis 

XIV.,  ii.  14,  112,  123,  140,  176- 
179,  196  tiote,  197,  219 

Louis  d",    father  of   Charles 

d',  95-99  and  note,  100;  ii.  125, 
127 

Madeleine  d',  82 

Maid  of,  7 

Marie  d',  no 

Pucelle  d',  ii.  212 

Orme,  Philibert  del',  189,  254  and 

note;  ii.  5,  9  note 
Ostia,  63 
Oxford,  94  note  ;  ii.  38  note 

Pactius,  Thomas,  18 

Palestine,  45,  77,  163  note  ;  ii.  124 

Palice,  La,  201 

Palissy,  Bernard,  ii.   12 

Pallas,  ii.  10 

Pan,  182 

Pantagruel,  29,  34,  181,  182,  193 

Panurge,  32 


Papimanis,  32 

Pardc'illan,  Baron  de,  ii.  74 

Pard,  Ambroise,  ii.  96 

Paris,  14,  46-48,  81,  85  note, 
86,  93  -  95,  100,  loi,  103, 
160  note,  181,  260,  261  ;  ii.  2, 
16,  34,  42,  43,  62,  64,  85,  91, 
92,  95,  102,  103,  106,  107,  125, 
126,  138,  143,  14s,  156,  157, 
163,  175,  181,  195,  219,  229, 
233,  234,  236,  237 

Comte  de,  ii.  38,  48 

Pasithde,  ii.  93 

Pasquier,  Esticnne,  ii.  45  note 

Patelin,  ii.  45  and  jwIc 

Pattison,  Mrs.  Mark,  164,  246  ;  ii. 
114,  190,  210 

Pau,  ii.  106 

Paul  v.,  ii.  153 

Pavia,  149,  155,  202,  203,  215,  219, 
225,  226,  228  ;  ii.  57 

Pazzi,  ii.  31 

Pedro,  Don,  229 

Pelisson,  ii.  185 

Pelouze,  M. ,  ii.   16 

Pepin,  15 

Peru,  236 

Peter's,  St.,  199 

Petersburg,  .St.,  ii.  137 

Petit,  Maitre  Jean,  loi  and  note 

Mr.,   81,  82,    121,    125  note, 

246  ;   ii.  213  note 

Petrarca,  Francesco,  95,  139 

Pericles,  12 

Perigord,  ii.  69 

Perigueux,  Bishop  of,  154  note 

Peronne,  60,  143  ;  ii.  42 

Philip  L,  23 

II.  of  Spain,  217 

HI.,  165 

IV.,  ii.  124 

of  France  (Auguste),    40-42, 

44.  73.  13s  ;   "■  205  note 
Philippe,  Louis,  81  ;  ii.  183 
Pibrac,  Chancellor,  ii.   106 
Piennes,      Mademoiselle     de,      ii. 

150 
Pierrefonds,  Castle  of,  ii.  112 
Pintoricchio,  ii.  133 
Pisa,  176,  197 


IXDEX 


2S3 


Pisseleu,  Anne  de,  229 

Pizarro,  236 

Pizzighilone,  224 

Plague,  66 

Planche,    Louis  Regnier  de  la,   ii. 

21  note,  68  note 
Plantagenets,     17,    (Geoffrey)    21, 

(Geoffrey)    24.   33,    37,   44,   69, 

70,   79,    81,    135,  188  ;   ii.    181, 

238 
Plato,  86 
Pleiad,  ii.  144 
Plessis-lez-Tours,    4,    9,    60,     iii 

note,    143.    166,    251,    252 ;    ii. 

10,  43,  92,  226,  227,  230,  236 
Plessis- Richelieu,    Louis  du,    ii.    6 

note 

.Antoine  du,  ii.  6  note 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  97  note 
Poitiers,  11,  12  note,  46,   78,   93  ; 

ii.  153.  221 

-Aymar  de,  137  note 

Diane  de,    7,    137   note,  156, 

157.    205,   235,    239,   240-242, 

251-256,   258  and  note,  259  and 

note,    261,    265,    267  ;   ii.  i,    14, 

15,    17,    19,    29  and    note,    65, 

133  note 

Jean  de,  156  ;  ii.  29  note 

Poitou.  14,  28,  71,  135 

Pol,  H6tel  Saint,  91  note 

Poland,  ii.  157,  199 

Poltrot,  ii.  20,  83,  97,  152 

Pompadour,  ii.  212 

De,  Bishop  of  Perigueux,  154 

note 
Pontbrillant.  159 
Pontlevoy,  ii.  41 
Pontrcmoli,  177 
Porchier,  Etiennc,  no  note 
Porcian,  Princcsse  de,  ii.  95 
Porthos,  ii.  177,  i8i 
Poucher,  Jean,  253 
Poyct,  224 

Pragueric,  135,  188  ;  ii.  127 
Prat,  Du,  155,  191  note,  213,  219, 

321,  224,  232,  248 
Pric.  Kmard  dc,  156 
Primaticcio,   247  ;    ii.   9  and  note, 

63,  188,  205,  206 


Prince,  Black,  ii.  238 
Protestants,  216;  ii.  35,  71,  23S 
Provence,  10,  234 
Pucelle,  La,  54 
Puits-Herbaut,  Gabriel  de,  85 
Puy,  156 

Bishop  of,  154 

Pyrenees,  10 

Ql'entin  Dukvv.\rd,  137  ;  ii.  226 

St.,  266 

Quesnel,  Maltre,  ii.  117 
Quicherat,  52  note,  55 

Rabelais,    8-10,   29.   31,  32,   85 

note,    163,    173,    181,    182,    185 

and  note,  228,  237  ;  ii.  44,  189, 

238 
Racine,  86  ;  ii.  144 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  ii.  238 
Rambouillet,  235 
Ramus,  M.,  ii.  2,  102 
Ranc6,    Armand   de,   ii.   220,   221 

and  note 
Raoul,  ii.  113 
Raphael,  ii.  131  note 
Raunay,  Baron  de,  ii.  81  note 
Ravaillac,  ii.  20,  174 
Ravenna,  201,  202,  223 
Ray,  M.  le,  205 
R6au.\-,     Tallemant    des,     ii.     106 

note 
Reformation,  173,  214,    216,   231, 

236  ;  ii.  44 
Regent,  English,  81 
Regnier,  139 
Reignac,  119 
Rembrandt,  266 
Remy,  Jeanne  de  St.,  265 
Renaissance,    58,    66,     100,     115, 

139.   173.   219,    245,   246,    257: 

ii.  64,  66,    123,    186,    190,   203, 

205,  206 
Rcnard,  Matthieu,  67 
Renaudie,  La,  ii.  37,  69-72,  74,  89 
R6nc:-,  58.  59,  89 
Queen's  Florentine  perfumer, 

ii.  96,  156 
Ret/.,    De,    158  ;    ii.    98,    197,     198 


>S4 


OLD  TOUR.UNE 


R^vol,  ii.  i6i,  170 

Revolution,    ii.  15,    178  vote,    180, 

186,  201,  203,  237 
Rhcims,  11  note,  52 

Archbishop  of,  ii.  127 

Rihcirac,  ii.  159 

Richard    Coeur  de    Lion,    40,   42, 

43  and  note,  80,  135,  213 
Richc,  Faubourg  de  la,  ii.  233 
Richelieu,     3,     68,    73,    86,    158, 

219 ;    ii.   6  note,    13,    131,    175- 

177,  197,  225 
Richemont,  Count  of,  48,   57,   103 

note 
Ridel,  Hugues,  ii.  205  note 
Ris,  Michael,   197 
Robbia,  Girolamo  della,  ii.  189 
Robert  of  Gloucester,  25 
Robertet,  Florimond,  94,  no,  253  ; 

ii.  180 
Rocca,  148 
Rochechouart,  158 

Marie  M.  G.  de,  86 

Rochecorbon,      33,     40,     87,     91, 

166,    253  ;    ii.    5  note,   66,   222, 

225 
Rochefort,  68 
Rochefoucauld,  Cardinal  de,  158 

De  la,  ii.  loi 

Rochelle,  La,  106  ;  ii.  156,  230 

Rochester,  133 

Roger  the  Devil.  21 

Rohan,  Cardinal  de,  266  ;  ii.  135 

Duke  of,  ii.  175 

Marie  de,  ii.  219,  220 

— — —  Mademoiselle  de,  ii.  1  r 

Pierre  de,  171 

Vicomte  de,  ii.  197 

Rohans,  3,  (Cardinal  de)  64 

Roissy,  De,  ii.  175 

Roland,  202 

Roniagna,  62,  65,  198 

Rome,  12,  14,  64,  93  note,  94,  155, 

177,    181,    193,   213,   224,   230, 

231  note  ;  ii.  62,  206 
Romorantin,  ii.  188,  218 
Roncevau.v,  202 
Ronsard,  32,  62  ;  ii.  3,  20,  25,  26, 

93,  143,  144,  218,  236 
Roqueplan,  Nestor,  M. ,  ii.  3 


Rosny,  Sieur  de,  ii.  13 

Rosso,  Giovanni  Ilittista,  ii.  63 

Rouen,  50,  52,  53,    80,    191,    193, 

208  ;  ii.  116  tiotc 
Rousseau,  J.  J..  9  ;  ii.  15 
Rou.v,  Le,  ii.  63,  206 
Rovere,  Cardinal  de  la,    143,   200 

(Pope) 
Rubens,  ii.  174,  176 
Ruccelai,  Abb6,  ii.  175 
Ruggieri,    Chnmbre    de,    207  ;    ii. 

31 
Russy,  Forest  of,  ii.  218 
Ruzd",  ii.  161 

S.MNTE  Ch.apem.e,  ii.  38  note 
Saintrailles,  57 
Salignac,  Bernard,  185 

Bertrand  de,  ii.  2  note 

Salle  des  Cent  Suisses,  ii.  1 17 

Gardes,  167,  205  ;  ii.  217 

La,  ii.  169 

Sand,    George,     9    ;     ii.    16,    200 

note 
Sanseverino,  Roberti  di,  148 
Saracens.  11,  15 
Sarthe,  19 
Sassenaye,     Marguerite     de,      137 

7>ote 
Sauniur,    2,    21,    28,    40,    73  note, 

74,     85,     87    and    7iote,    88-90, 

106,    188  ;    ii.    5   note,    53,    55, 

127,  216 
Saussaye,  M.  de  la,  ii.  188,  193 
Sauves,    Madame    de,    ii.    11,    19, 

97,  167,  169 
Sauveur,   St.,   Church  of,    ii.    113, 

127 
Savoie,  Bonne  de,  148 

Jacques  de,  ii.  73 

Louise  de,    7,    30,    82,    128 

155,    156,    191  note,  204,   213, 

217,    219,    221,    222    and   note, 

223,    224,    232,    250,    253  note, 

266    note;    ii.    53,    54,    58,    61, 

134  note,  218 
Savonarola,  173,  175,  181 
Savoy,  Bastard  of,  225 
Saxe,  Marshal,   ii.    190,    199,   200, 

201 


LVDEX 


2S=; 


Saxony,  Elector  of,  ii.  199 

Scarron,  7 

Scheldt,  ii.  200 

Schomberg,  ii.  159 

Scipio,  152 

Scotland,  262  ;  ii.  16,  26 

Margaret  of,  136 

Scott,  137,  192 

Scuderv,      Mademoiselle     de,      ii. 
185' 

Seine,  43 

Semblancay,  Charlotte  de  Beaune, 
ii.  91 

Jacques  de  Beaune,  30,   220, 

221    and    note,    222    note,    248- 
250,  253  ;  ii.  55,  91,  96 
Sens,  Archbishop  of,  ii.  135 
Servitor,     Loyal,    198,    201,    203, 

225 
Seurelle,  Demoiselle  de,  127 
Severus,  Sulpicius,  ii.  40 
Seyssel,  Claude  de,  ii.  47 
Sforza,  Francesco,  108,  109 

Ludovico,  144,  147  and  note, 

148-152  and  note,  153,   154  and 
note,  173,  176  ;  ii.   133 
Shakespeare,  54,  55,  266 
Ship,  White,  23 
Sicily,  202,  203 

Queen  of,  48,  80,  89 

Siegfried,  Monsieur,  167,  185 
Silenus,  32 

Sinionetta,  Cecco.  148 
Smalkald,  League  of,  233 
Smith,  ii.  157  note 
Socrates,  54,  237 
Soissons,  99 
Soliman,  233 
Sologne,  ii.  140,  180,  183 
Solomon,  S<^>ng  of.  73 
Sophia,  Dorothea,  ii.  199 
Scrbonne,  267 

Sorcl,   Agnes,    4,    7,  56,   58,    125- 
128,    134   note,    135,     137    note, 

238.  255 
Southey,  54,  56 
Spain,  10.  85,  169,  173,  199,  215, 

216,    219.    226  ;    ii.    132,    155, 

158.  227 
King  of,  ii.  71 


Spencer,  Herbert,  5 

Spinosa,  266 

Stael,  Madame  de,  10,  20^ 

States-General,  ii.  68,  69,  72,  85, 
114,  158,  159,  161 

Stephen  of  Blois,  Count  of  Bou- 
logne, 20,  24-26  ;  ii.  40 

Count  of  Blois,  25 

Stuart,  Esm6,  174  note 

Marie,  4,  7,  85,  217,  265  ;   ii. 

3  and  note,  18,  19-26,  65,  66, 
80,  81,  84,  140,  145,  146,  150, 
151,  160,  211 

Suffolk,  Duke  of,  90,  108,  225 
note 

Sulpice,  Sieur  de  Saint,  ii.  160 

Sultan,  ii.  155 

Suriano,  Michele,  ii.  32 

Swiss,  150,  152  and  note,  174 

Switzerland,  ii.  71,  234 

Symphorien,  St.,  13;  ii.  230, 
237 

T.^LBOT,   57 

Tamburlaine,  142 

Tare,  177 

Tartary,  ii.  i 

Tavannes,  ii.  28  note,  101 

Thelema,  10  ;  ii.  189 

Tliibault  le  Tricheur,  ii.  124,  184 

Thicr,  Jean  du,  ii.  218 

Thou,  De,  ii.  20,  197,  225 

Anne  de,  ii.  216 

Thouct,  88 

Throckmorton,  ii.  157  note 

Tinchebray,  23 

Titian,  ii.  217 

Tocqucville,  De,  250  note  ;   ii.    235 

note 
Torinus,  1 1  note  , 

Torquemada,  173 
Tortulf,  18 

Toulouse,  10  ;   ii.  55,  75 
— —  Count  Raymond  of,  80 
Tour,  Anne  de  la,  ii.  29  note 

Magdalena  de  la,  ii.  29  note 

'lournon,  .Mademoiselle  de,  ii.  103, 

104  note,  136 
Tours,  \'icomte  dc,  ii,  160 
Tractus  Armoricanus,  14 


2S6 


OLD   TOURAIXE 


Trappe,  La,  ii.  221 

Traus,  Baron  de,  64 

Tri-mouille,  La,  48,  57,  (Jacques  de 

la)    no.    III,    151,    152,     171, 

198,  202,  225  ;  ii.  92,  129,  130, 

132  7iote 
Trent,  ii.  158 
Trichau,  William  de,  42 
Trinqucau,  Maitre  I'ierre,  ii.  188 
Trivulzio,    150,   152  and  note,  177, 

197 
Troglodytes,  Cavcrne  des,  34  ;   ii.  5 

note 
Troves,  Jean  de,   143 
Truncus,  88 
Tudor,  Mary,  204 
Turenne,  ii.  106 
Turin,  178 
Turner,  ii.  238 

Urban  H.  ,  Popk,  74 

Ursins,   Juvenal   des,    96,   98  note, 

99  note,  103  note 
Usson,  Chateau  d',  ii.   107 

Valence,  ii.  132  note 

Bishop  of,  237 

Valentinois,    7,    62,    64,    65,    205 

(Duchesse  de),  239  (Duchesse  de), 

257  ;  ii.  133  note 

Due  de,  ii.  130 

\'alery.  Saint,  ii.  2 

Vallier,   St.    Seigneur  de,  156,  157, 

255  and  note 
Vuilliere,  Louise  de  la,    7  ;  ii.    179, 

195 
Valois,  94  note,  99,  140,  211,  259  ; 

ii.  26,  160,  230 
Valois- AngoulOme,  211 
\'alois.  Marguerite  de,   ii.    13,    19, 

28  note,   90-108,    146,    152-155, 

519.  174 
Valois-Orl6ans,  211 
Vassy,  ii.  31,  83 
Vatican,   62,   63,    199,    201,    230  ; 

ii.  153,  220 
Vaugien,  M.  de,  189 
Vauguyon,  La,  156 
VeccUio,  Cesare,  ii.  2 
Vendue,  La,  ii.  237 


Vend6me,  27  ;  ii.  i,  13 

Due  de,  ii.  14 

Venice,    89,    109,    112,    113,    149, 

173.   177.  199.  201,    253  ;   ii.  28 

note,  133 
Vercingetori.K,  ii.  40  note 
Verger,  ii.  55 
Veri6res,     Mademoiselle,     ii.    200 

note 
Vermandois,  ii.   124 
\''crnant,  St.,  ii.  222 
Versailles,  3,  98  note  ;   ii.    14,    143, 

181,  216 
Versigny,  Nicole  de,  265 
Vertus,  99,  loi 
Vesc,    Etienne  de,    171,    177  ;    ii. 

46 
Vespers,  Sicilian,  203  ;  ii.  98 
Vieilleville,  260,  262  ;   ii.    2,  4  and 

note,  73,  74 
Vienna,  216 
Vienne,   2,  21,   28-30,   34,  38,  70, 

73,  79,  116 
Vigelli,  250 

Vigny,  De,  87,  90  ;  ii.  222 
Villeneuve,     Ren6,    Comte    dc,    ii. 

16 
Viileroi,  li.  161 
Villon,  Fran9ois,  32,  50,  104,   no, 

139  ;  ii.  44,  126,  128 
Vincennes,  68,  165 
Vinci,  Leonardo  da,  ii.  61,  62,  64, 

123,  133 
Vineuil,  De,  ii.  218 
Visconti,  Fiiippo  Maria,  108 
Gian  Galeazzo,  94,  95,  (house 

of)  94  note,  98 
Valentine,  95,    96  and    7iote, 

98,  100,  loi  and  note,  in.   115, 

202  ;   ii.  112,   125,   126,   188 
Viscontis,  171,  174  note 
Visigoths,  14  ;  ii.  36 
Vitry,  Michelle  de,  98  note 
\'osgcs.  South,  10 

Walsingham,  ii.  35 
Watteau,  ii.  218 
Wellington,   149 
Westminster  .\bbey,  26 
William  the  .Aethcling,  23,  24 


IXDEX 


2S7 


William  the  Conqueror,  5,  22 

III.,    King   of    England, 

156  note 

the  Marshal,  41,  42 

Wilson,  Daniel,  ii.  16 

Madame,  ii.  16 

Windsor,  39 
Wingfield,  140 


Wolsey,  195 
Women,  influence  of,  6 
Worcester,  William  of,  55 
Wordsworth,  ii.  238 

York,  15,  58,  90 

Young,  Arthur,  ii.  179,  185,  263 

Yriarte,  ii.  131  nole 


END    OF    VOL.     I 


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